by Ani Gonzalez
Olivia's brows went up. "No, no. Even Hexalife wouldn't put pure oleander extract in one of their supplements."
Gavin nodded. "A straightforward poisoning, then."
"And one that points straight to Fiona's cousin," Sean said. "As far as we can tell, she was the only one doing extracts."
"And she made that one for the candles." Gavin sighed. "The candles themselves would have been harmless—"
He stopped short. Were they? Gemma had just said that Flora had made a mistake while making the candles, and they had been pulled from the market, but the oleander extract wasn't a mistake, and it wasn't harmful.
Had there been another mistake?
"But the extract is deadly if consumed," Olivia concluded.
"What would be her motivation, though?" Sean asked. "She wasn't in on the pyramid fraud, and she was an employee. She had nothing to lose but backpay."
"But they were going to blame her and her recipes," Olivia raised a finger for effect. "If somebody did that to me, I'd get even."
"The attacks are reckless, probably not premeditated, and not necessarily intended to kill," Sean said. "Stella will apparently make it, and so will Violet. Bella is trickier, but she still has a chance." He leaned back on his chair, hands behind his head. "The drive for vengeance is there, but it's dulled by anger."
"Because someone was done wrong," Olivia said, "and they aren't thinking straight. Flora fits."
But it didn't sound right to Gavin. He knew Fiona's cousin, and she wasn't the type to seek vengeance, not like this. If she found out they were going to use her as a patsy, she'd be resentful, but not violent.
They were missing something. There had to be someone—
He jerked as his personal phone jumped to life, vibrating energetically. The generic vibration meant it was an automated message and not a phone call from anyone he knew. It wasn't, for example, Fiona calling up to check on her cousin, which was odd. Why hadn't she called yet?
Gavin pulled the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. His blood went cold as he recognized the automated message.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"DO YOU have any idea how hard I worked for this?" Leslie whispered. "I hustled for years. I climbed the ladder. I had clients all over the country." Her hands clenched into fists. "Real clients, not those recruited friends other people had."
Fiona fought off the effects of the smoke and assessed her options. Leslie was blocking the front entrance to the shop, so that was a no-go. She could make a run for the kitchen in the back of the store, but Leslie, who didn't seem as affected by the smoke, could probably block her easily. The former waitress was taller and stronger than she was.
The third option was—
No, there was no third option. It was the kitchen or nada.
Fiona stared at the smoldering candle. She just had to wait for the right opportunity. She'd already managed, through stealthy movements, to position Leslie in front of the smoke. As soon as an opening presented itself, she would take it.
"I don't understand," Leslie moaned. "The products were good. They were immensely popular, and we had devoted clients." She rubbed at her eyes. "Hexalife is not a regular health regime. It's personalized and creative and, most importantly, it's fun."
She sniffled, and Fiona tensed. Was the smoke finally affecting her attacker? Was this the chance she was waiting for?
"And they were going to destroy it," Leslie went on. "They didn't care. It was just a scam for them. That's why they deserved it. Violet. Bella. Even Stella. They all deserved it."
"Flora didn't deserve it," Fiona exclaimed. "She believed in the company, and she worked just as hard as you did."
Leslie shrugged. "That's unfortunate, but I need an alibi. I was going to use Stella, who was leaving anyway, but we argued and I pushed her too hard." She heaved a sigh, but the smoke turned it into a hoarse cough. "That just leaves Flora." She aimed a sympathetic glance at Fiona. "And you. I am sorry, Fi, but someone has to be blamed for the car crash."
Fiona readied herself, angling her body to have a clear path to the back exit. "You're forgetting something."
Leslie coughed and glanced around at the leprechaun pillow. "I don't think so. Once I suffocate you, it will look like an accidental death. I'll leave the van keys next to your body. That's what I was going to do with Stella."
Fiona aimed her power at the candle. She had one shot at this.
It had to work.
"Well, let me show you," Fiona whispered, willing the candle flame to flare into life. She held her breath.
Leslie frowned. "What?"
A flame appeared on the candle. Fiona smiled in triumph. Her chest hurt and she was finding it hard to breathe, so she had to make this work quickly.
She threw the candle at Leslie and sprinted for the door.
She almost made it, racing past the door to the kitchen and heading straight for the exterior back door, when she felt Leslie's strong hands wrap around her shoulders.
"Hey," Leslie shouted. "Don't do that." Her fingers dug into Fiona's arms. "I can't bang you up too much, or it won't look accidental."
Fiona ground her teeth against the pain and kicked out. "Good."
She missed, but noticed that Leslie's shirt was smoking. The candle must have set it on fire. Leslie was holding her down, but if she concentrated she may be able to get that fire to spread.
She focused her power again.
The plume of smoke grew bigger and tiny flames landed on the shirt fabric like hungry fiery kittens. She held on to that image, willing the fire to grow.
"What?" Leslie muttered, turning to look.
Her grip loosened, and Fiona kicked her again. Leslie groaned, the flames spreading through her shirt.
Fiona gave her attacker one final kick and tried to scramble free.
But the toxic fumes had weakened her. Her lungs burned, and she was having trouble getting enough air. She tried to get up, but her limbs felt like lead.
But maybe she didn't have to run. The fire on Leslie's clothes should be enough to—
Fiona groaned as ice-cold drops fell from the ceiling, hitting her skin. The smoke had triggered the top-of-the-line sprinkler system Gavin had installed. In a few seconds, she would be soaked to the skin.
The good news was that the chilly water was counteracting the effects of the smoke and she felt stronger and more awake.
Bad news was that the sprinkler system had put out the fire on Leslie's clothes and the murderess was again ready to fight.
Fiona stood painfully and ran to the kitchen door, Leslie close behind her. Fiona grabbed the handle—
But Leslie grabbed her by the throat and pulled her back. Fiona gasped as pain shot down her throat, then drew back her arm to land a hard elbow into her attacker's ribs.
Then someone knocked on the back door.
They both froze as the door opened and a handsome male face peeked in.
"Hello?" Tristan asked. "Are you in there? I just want to take the scavenger hunt picture. I got held up with the sheriff and didn't get a chance—" He frowned and stared at them. "What's going on here? Leslie, are you okay?"
A siren rang out, a sweet and familiar sound. Fiona almost collapsed in relief.
Banshee Creek Fire & Rescue had arrived.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
"ALL THAT hard work and commitment, and he still didn't win the scavenger hunt?" Kat asked, neatly cutting up her slice of pizza. "He's pretty, but I'm not sure Tristan is a good catch."
Fiona laughed. "But Caine gave him a special cash prize. He felt he had to, since the guy saved my life."
They were in Poltergeist Pizza, enjoying a well-deserved pie meal, or at least some of them were. Gavin had ordered a Lucky Treasure pizza, which seemed to consist mainly of green and yellow peppers, and a green beer. Fiona's throat was still sore, however, so she was having a chocolate milkshake. Dr. Lebensburg had told her she would be back to normal food in a day or so.
It seem
ed she was enjoying the milkshake, which was a relief. The ice cream treat fit the holiday theme, as it was an eye-catching Lucky Rainbow Milkshake with brightly colored layers of creamy fluid, a fluffy white cloud of whipped cream, and a gold-wrapped chocolate coin as decoration. It was probably a pain-in-the-butt to make, but Zach had whipped one up without complaint. Presumably he had finally come to terms with losing Leslie as his new waitress.
The St. Patrick's Day holiday had been anything but lucky for Zach, or for Gavin either.
A shudder ran down his spine as he recalled the horror of the past few hours—alerting DeShawn about the smoke alarm, driving the fire engine at high speeds through narrow streets, and then seeing Fiona lying unconscious on the ground.
Seeing her happily slurping down a rainbow milkshake with her friends made him feel very lucky.
Kat craned her neck. "Looks like someone is ready to spend his newfound wealth."
Gavin looked up and saw Tristan enter the pizzeria, followed by Gemma, Stella, and a pale-looking Bella. A waiter greeted them, and Tristan pointed at his green leprechaun t-shirt, which announced that he had completed the scavenger hunt and had earned the appropriate discount. The waiter led them to a table.
"Bella is out of the hospital," Luanne whispered. "Stella told me Violet will be released soon and is expected to have a full recovery."
"That's great news," Kat said.
Flora nodded, looking glum. She didn't wave to her colleagues and seemed to shrink in her seat, trying to pass unnoticed.
"Thank heavens, Tristan finished the hunt," Kat said. "Who knows what would have happened otherwise?"
Fiona bristled. "I was holding my own."
Gavin raised a brow. "Tristan said you fainted as soon as he arrived."
Fiona glared at him. "I did not. I was just feeling a little woozy. You try wrestling with a crazy Hexalife rep in the middle of a toxic mist."
Gavin laughed, but Flora winced.
"I'm so sorry about that candle," said Flora. "I can't believe I made such a stupid mistake with such tragic consequences.
Fiona stopped her with a gesture. "Not another word. There were no tragic consequences. A child got sick, but he's fine. Hexalife discontinued the candles. End of story."
Flora's eyes went wide. "You almost died."
Fiona opened her mouth to respond, but a burst of laughter interrupted her.
"Almost being the operative word," Luanne said, still giggling as she walked up to their table. "Leslie, it turned out, botched every single one of her attacks."
Fiona felt a stab of relief. "Stella will be okay?"
Luanne nodded and sat down next to her. "I guess I was wrong about that premonition I had in your shop."
"No, you weren't," Fiona said, shuddering. "You just misinterpreted where the bad luck would end up. Things went rapidly downhill; they just didn't go downhill for Stella." She smiled. "And you were right about Flora being okay. That's what matters."
Luanne wrinkled her nose. "That's still a D+ average."
Flora grinned. "We all make mistakes."
"True," Fiona said, raising her milkshake. "To second chances."
They all raised their glasses for the toast.
Kat laughed. "To well-timed scavenger hunts."
"To smart smoke alarms and sprinkler systems," Gavin added.
They clicked their glasses and drank.
"And it looks like Hexalife will go on," Luanne added. "Stella said Violet will be able to keep the company alive. The big loan came through, and they plan to revamp operations, giving the members stock shares in exchange for the money they're owed. Notwithstanding the original sham, the business model seems viable and the members seem to be supportive, so they'll probably go for it and not press criminal charges."
"That's true dedication," Kat said. "I wouldn't double down on a business headed by fraudsters."
Luanne grinned. "It won't be. Tristan will be in charge." She leaned forward. "And Berenice."
Gavin laughed. "They had a coup?"
Luanne nodded. "Violet will remain as Honorary President, basically a figurehead role. Bella will keep her accounting duties, but under strict supervision because Tristan is using his scavenger hunt money to bring in an auditor, and I'm told Berenice is a strict rule-follower. That's why they kicked her out of the company when they started doing shady things."
Tristan's table had ordered a bottle of Haunted Orchard sparkling cider, and they were now toasting each other, so Luanne's report seemed accurate. Gavin shook his head. As the saying goes, the devil looks after his own.
"That's great news," Flora exclaimed. Then her face fell. "I mean about them being okay. I'm not sure about the Hexalife revival." Her gaze fell. "I don't think I want to work for them anymore."
Luanne gave her a sympathetic glance. "Stella feels the same way. If it makes you feel better, I think the rebranded Hexalife will be very successful."
"I'm glad," Flora said, looking anything but. "But I still don't want to be a part of it."
"That's smart," Gavin said, serving himself another slice of pizza.
Luanne's optimism was a good sign, but it still wasn't a good idea to get entangled with criminals. Flora was showing good sense.
Luanne frowned. "Are you sure, Flora? There were pentacles all over my reading. That means they will make a lot of money."
"Some things are worth more than money," Fiona said, stretching her arm out to grab her cousin's hand across the table.
"Yep," Gavin muttered. "Like one's life. That's worth more than Hexalife shares."
Luanne's eyes narrowed. "They weren't planning to kill Flora."
Fiona rolled her eyes. "True, they were just going to frame her for murder."
"Fair enough," Luanne conceded. "But it's still not dead."
Flora sighed. "What is dead is my career. I don't have a job, and my reputation is shot now. I'm not sure what I can do that's not Hexalife. There aren't many job listings for herbalists."
Kat's brows went up. "There are in Banshee Creek. I would love to have you join me at the shop. That would mean I could finally take a vacation. And you have mail order experience, so we could finally get that online order business off the ground."
Flora's eyes widened. "Really? I wouldn't want to impose."
"Don't be silly," Kat said, beaming. "You're a godsend." Her eyes twinkled as she reached for her phone. "Wait until I tell my husband we can finally take a real trip."
Flora smiled for the first time that evening.
Fiona squeezed her cousin's hand. "And you can stay in my studio until you figure something out."
"Oh, but it's so small," Flora blurted out. "I can't do that to you."
"I won't be there." Fiona smiled at Gavin. "I've been thinking about moving out for a while, and this may be the right time."
Gavin did a double take. "Are you sure?"
He stared at her, eyes wide. Surely she didn't mean—
Fiona nodded. "I'm absolutely sure." She glanced at her cousin. "I already have a sublet and everything."
Gavin grinned and reached for the emerald-colored beer. This was his lucky day, after all.
***
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed these stories. If you did, I'd love it if you took a moment and left a review. A full list of books is available on my website, www.AniGonzalez.biz. If you join my mailing list you'll get updates on when the next Banshee Creek stories are published and the first three PRoVE romance novelettes, One Night with the Golden Goddess, One Night in the Mummy's Tomb, and One Night in the Chupacabras Ranch for FREE.
Hungry for more Main Street Witches? You can find the rest of the series here. And if you can't get enough of the mystical town of Banshee Creek (I sure can't!), keep reading and you'll find previews of my witchy urban fantasy series, Drop Dead Witchy, and my Banshee Creek romance series.
Thank you for reading - Ani.
***
Must Love Ghosts
(A Haunting Paranormal Romantic
Comedy)
(Banshee Creek #1)
Romancing the Rational Skeptic
Abby Reed believes in folk songs, faery tales, and ghosts, but she doesn't believe in love. Her fiancé died while deployed in Afghanistan, but she still has her music, her crazy ghost-filled town, and her pen-pal-slash-best-friend, Mike Stone. But when Mike arrives in Banshee Creek after his last tour of duty, Abby starts to have doubts, about music, ghosts and, most importantly...love.
Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited. Buy links found here.
***
MUST LOVE GHOSTS (EXCERPT)
"Well, I want you in my zombie apocalypse survival team."
Mike Stone turned. The owner of the throaty female voice, a tall girl with long magenta hair and strange clothes, glanced at his military fatigues appreciatively. Her eyes were yellow, with slit pupils, like a cat's.
He was standing on a cobblestone street surrounded by colonial buildings with brick façades and old-fashioned moldings. Baskets with chrysanthemum blooms hung from wrought iron lampposts and vintage signs adorned the quaint, if slightly run-down, shops. Banshee Creek, Virginia was the kind of town where the shop signs announced "Ye Olde Bake-Shoppe," and "Merrie Colonial Pubbe."
The magenta-haired girl in the black catsuit and sky-high heels looked decidedly incongruous. She blinked as the afternoon sun hit her on the face, and realization dawned. Contacts. She must be wearing contacts.
"That's a very realistic costume," she purred, her smile displaying plastic fangs. "Warm, too. I didn't realize it got so cold here in October. Next year, I'll put on a nice thick fur and come as a Siberian were-cat."
"Um, thanks," he replied. He didn't know how to tell her that it wasn't a costume. That he wasn't an aspiring zombie survivalist, just an ordinary soldier on leave.
"Here." She handed him an orange flyer with an elaborate flourish. "You're officially invited to the Banshee Creek Costume Party."
