by Kali Harper
“Wait, why would someone steal the fourth book instead of one of the first three?”
“They either own the other three or were only interested in what spells are in book four.”
“Let me guess, do these spells have anything to do with incantations?”
“Enchantments and wards, mostly,” Kat said.
I exhaled hard. “And today is the first you noticed it was missing?”
“I may have realized it sooner if I’d bothered to check, but the stacks are always so organized.”
I laughed at that, apologizing when I did. “Let’s say Ida doesn’t have the book. What can she do?”
“You know how she’s always snooping around?” When I nodded, she continued. “It isn’t because she has nothing better to do. It’s her gift.”
“Being nosy is a gift?”
“She’s a Seer. She can sense auras on everyone here in town. The magic isn’t important, but the auras are. They can tell her if someone lies as they’ll glow a bright red. Fortunately, she can’t tell what the lie’s about.”
“Sounds like a gift Lance should have.”
“Right?” She looked behind me then, her eyes locked on something I couldn’t see. “Sammy’s taking his job seriously.”
“Doesn’t he always?” Only now, he isn’t waiting for me to walk back up to the shop. “Wait. Sammy came to get me that day.”
“Because you were late.”
“Wouldn’t his wards have… I don’t know... disappeared?”
“His wards are timed same as Maggie’s charms. That’s why her house and the bakery were always protected. Distance has nothing to do with it.”
So much for that. “I tried to get him to come in with me, but he refused.”
“I’m surprised he let you out of the house at all, especially with that book.”
“He did tell me to hide it, but I figured having it on me might hurry things along. Sammy can’t stop me from bringing it out here, can he?”
“He can try, and if there was ever a familiar in this town to fear, Sammy would be it. He’s older than Maggie and as dedicated to the job as they come.” She laughed. “Guess you won’t need a translator after all.”
“Good thing, too. Not sure if I could stand all the back and forth.”
“I would’ve been terrible at it anyway. Think charades, but trying to do it with a cat. I might get some of the words right, but we’d have to fill in a whole lot of blanks.”
I met Sammy’s eyes through the glass, and when he turned away, I took it as his way of asking me to leave. “I should probably go. I need to see a man about some fruit.”
“I doubt it’s him, Astrid.” She helped me to my feet, then took my mug. “One more for the road?”
“I’m good, thanks. Even if Mr. Clark isn’t the one, I wanted to talk to him anyway. He must be crushed after all that’s happened. I want him to know I’m here if he needs an ear, you know?”
“Ahh, playing the sympathy card. Very nice.”
“I’m not playing, Kat. Anyway, I should get going.”
She took me in her arms, hugged me tight, then let me out of the shop with a promise to call me later. Outside, Sammy sat at my feet, his eyes fixed on the shop a few doors down.
“You’d better not get me into any trouble,” I warned, zipping up my purse as I walked with him, the cool air sending a shiver down my spine.
At the start of autumn, we had our warm and our cold days. Still, today felt unusually cold, even for me. Sammy didn’t seem to mind, picking up the pace as we crested the hill. As expected, Mr. Clark’s fruit stand was positioned outside The Market, the delicious strawberries from the other day still sitting in the middle of it. Sammy slowed, then stopped in front of the cart, meowing at me instead of using his words.
I was about to ask him why he’d reverted to his former cat-self when Mr. Clark stepped out of his shop.
“Astrid, what’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” He looked right at me, his eyes red and his face as worn as I felt.
“Couldn’t stand the thought of sitting there doing nothing.”
He nodded then, turning back for his shop where he still had a cart of oranges to put out. “Busy work,” he offered, taking a handful of oranges before adding them to his cart. “It’s the best we can do for now. Such a shame.” He shook his head and I didn’t have to ask what he was referring to. Even as I helped him unload the fruit onto the cart, his gaze wandered in the direction of Maggie’s shop. “I hate not seeing it open like this. It was such a warm place in our little town.”
“It was.” I considered my next words carefully. “Can I ask you something?”
“Playing detective?” He smiled at me and removed a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping at his eyes before putting it back.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean—”
“If I can pick between you and Lance, you’d win. You’ll figure it out, I just wish I could help.”
“Maybe you can.” I followed him back inside his shop, talking as I did. “Kat told me everyone in town has magic.”
“She did, did she? I suppose you’ve been sworn into our little club then?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re wondering what my specialty is.”
“I am. I figured it might be your fruit since Maggie had her tarts.”
“It’s true my fruit’s magically engineered, but I don’t work with charms the way Maggie did. What you taste from my cart is the product from months of work growing them right up until the perfect time. Think of me as someone with a super-green thumb. I can’t make something from nothing, however. I still need seeds and to nurture what I grow. It may be a little faster than how it is out there in the real world, but even time has its place.”
“Have you ever grown a bad fruit?”
His brows pinched together. “If anyone has ever tasted anything less than excellent from my cart, you send them my way so I can fix it.”
“So they’re never bitter?”
“Not unless they’re meant to be, and I don’t do any of that cross engineering. A Grapple? How ridiculous.” A smile teased his lips. “Who ate bad fruit?”
“Sammy.”
“The cat.”
“Yes.”
He regarded Sammy who was sitting beside his cart. “It was safe when it left my shop.”
“I thought as much, but I had to ask.”
When I turned to go, he said, “Aren’t you going to ask where I was that night?”
“I thought I was the one playing detective,” I said, placing a hand on his arm. “Of all the people in this town, you’re the one who loved Maggie most. I witnessed it every single day.”
“That’s a very kind thing to say.”
“And even if she might not have felt the same, I can’t see you hurting her.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you nurture seeds instead of magically making the fruit appear. Anyone who spends time on something when they could speed it up with magic is on the bottom of my list.”
“Thank you.”
“What for? I was only telling the truth. Mind if I take one of the strawberries for the road?”
“Take a handful.”
I thanked him, took a large handful of strawberries along with one of the oranges and continued up the street. After taking a steadying breath, I put the fruit in my purse.
“You don’t trust him,” Sammy said once we were alone.
“In this town, it’s hard to trust anyone right now, isn’t it?”
“So what now?”
“I think it’s about time we paid a certain detective a visit, don’t you?”
Without saying a word, Sammy bounded across the street, turning in the other direction once I reached the opposite sidewalk. I hadn’t said anything, but I’m sure he knew today’s investigations were all because of him. I hated seeing him possessed as much as he did, and if finding Maggie’s killer could give them both a bit of peace, I’d do whatever I could to make
it happen.
Without magic.
Yeah, it might not have been the best plan, but it was all I had, so as Sammy walked in front of me, I picked up my pace and rehearsed what I’d tell Lance once we reached his office.
Chapter Seven
“I won’t take you prancing in here and making demands. The answer’s no.”
Lance slammed the drawer on his filing cabinet, his suit jacket hanging off his shoulders as he finally sat in his chair. His brown curls were especially out of sorts, and if I had to guess, I’d say he hadn’t slept at all.
“We’re doing everything we can—”
“Not everything,” I told him, unloading the fruit onto his desk.
“What? Are you bribing me now?” He took one of the strawberries and lifted it to his lips.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Lance glared at the fruit, then set it back down, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he met my gaze. “Explain.”
For the second time this morning, I went over everything I knew, including how Maggie had possessed Sammy, one of the other cats, and the part about the bitter fruit. As I spoke, Lance lowered his arms and leaned back in his chair, taking notes once I finished.
“You should’ve come to me.”
“When? Last night? As soon as you saw me in my house, you warned me not to get involved, remember? You wouldn’t still have that jail cell available, would you?”
“You stayed away from your house and the bakery, which is all I asked. I still won’t say I agree with you poking around town, but you did bring me something I can use, which I appreciate.”
I wet my lips and looked from him to Sammy who sat at my feet. For the first time today, he’d insisted on joining me. Good thing Lance was in a welcoming mood, otherwise we’d probably be talking in the back of his car.
“If I’m going to share information with you, I need to ask you a favor.”
“Sharing what you know is the law, Astrid. If you hold back any evidence—”
“I’m not, I swear. I just want to know how Maggie died.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“No. She said she didn’t come to and realize what had happened until yesterday morning. Is there a way to trace for magic or anything?”
“We can, but it takes time.” He rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders before looking at me again. “None of this leaves this room.”
“Obviously.” I followed his gaze to the door of his office which he’d closed since I first walked in.
“Her death comes across as a massive brain aneurysm, but the scans aren’t quite right. Given where she was found, foul play was most certainly involved, but until we get all the tests back, whatever I say is speculation.” He set his pad to the side and removed his glasses, rubbing at his eyes as he spoke. “I’ll have the fruit tested, but if it’s been more than a few days, the enchantment has probably lifted by now. Magic’s tricky like that.”
“But someone must’ve cursed Sammy. He had his wards in place.”
“When a familiar rests, their wards weaken. Not enough for magic to go through, but if he were poisoned like you say, well, then it could.”
“Wait. Why go to all that trouble instead of killing him?”
Lance smiled then. “If the familiar is destroyed, the magic dies with it.”
“Which means they’d lose the book and whatever else they were after.”
“Exactly. In that case, we got lucky. If they’d wanted Maggie dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“If they killed her to find the book, will they come after me?”
“Only if Sammy makes the same mistake twice.” He leaned over the side of his desk and peered at Sammy. “I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”
“No food unless it’s from home,” Sammy agreed, jumping up into my lap. Standing on his hind legs, he nuzzled my neck, then spoke so low only I could hear him. “You haven’t told him about the book. You don’t think…”
I grinned at Sammy and stroked the fur along his back. Lance may have been the detective in town, but that didn’t make him any less of a suspect. He knew more about this case than anyone, and if he was the one, the last thing we needed was for him to get a hold of the book I had.
“Sharing secrets?” Lance asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“It’s your hair,” I said, smiling at him. “It’s a bit out of sorts.”
“Sleeping at your desk will do that to you. You should’ve been here earlier this morning. I had papers imprinted on my face.” He was clearly joking, but it made me laugh anyway.
“At least you got some sleep. Maggie had me awake all night.”
“Being haunted, I can only imagine.” He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. “Sure hope I’m never haunted. Think of the lack of privacy!”
“I’m glad she isn’t a ghost. Or, well, I can’t see her as one. So if she wants to talk to me, she’ll have to sit outside the door, same as everyone else.”
“Any idea what your specialty is?” Specialty being my magic. He asked like it was a course I’d planned to take.
“No idea. Talking to cats isn’t one, is it?”
“Could be, but who knows.” He lifted his gaze when someone knocked on his office door, inviting them in a moment later. “What do you have there, Max?”
“Toxins report. Good morning, Astrid. Joining the investigation?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “Word around town is you’ve become quite the detective.”
“I haven’t even questioned anyone.” Unless they included Mr. Clark.
“Rumors then. My apologies.”
“Maggie visited her,” Lance cut in.
“How is the old gal?”
“Flustered,” I said, “and bound to haunt you for calling her that.” Maggie hated that word. She preferred seasoned or extinguished. I had to agree. Maggie may have been twice my age, but I never saw her that way. She had enough spunk to keep up with everyone else.
“I wouldn’t expect any less. Oh, how lovely. I thought strawberry season was over. May I?” He reached for the fruit on Lance’s desk, drawing back once the detective passed him a warning glance. “Bewitched fruit?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to figure out,” Lance said, standing from his chair. “On that note, shall I see you out, Astrid?”
“I know my way around.” I smiled sweetly, thanked them both for their time, then picked up my purse and headed back outside with Sammy in tow. I would’ve loved to read the report, but I had a feeling there was nothing useful there. “I don’t know about you,” I said to Sammy as I made my way back toward the center of town, “but I could really go for something to eat.”
“At home,” he reminded me.
Man, I couldn’t wait until this was all over. It had only been one day and I was already missing one of Carol’s amazing burgers. Even as we walked by her bar and grill, the smell of sauteed onions and mushrooms reached my nose, making my mouth water and my stomach growl loud enough for Sammy to hear.
“Home,” Sammy said again without stopping.
I groaned, offered Carol’s a longing glance, then headed for Maggie’s.
Chapter Eight
For as long as I’d known Maggie, she’d never been one to mope around. The few times I’d seen her upset, it usually involved Harris Morganson, their bidding war for Every Last Crumb’s location, and the recipes Harris insisted she stole. Needless to say, I did a double-take when I found Maggie in the living room. Careful not to startle her, I stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind me.
Sammy froze at my feet, and if cat fur could turn white from shock, I’m sure it would have. Neither of us moved for a long moment as I watched Maggie pick under one of her fingernails. It was a nervous habit she had, which she’d kept with her in the afterlife. Everything else about her was exactly the same. Her hair was freshly curled and there were visible smudges on her floral pajama bottoms, possibly from the flour she’d use
d. The only difference was her color. Slightly transparent, she was a lovely shade of blue.
“Maggie?” My voice was barely audible as I crept into the room.
“Goodness, child,” she said with a start, jumping to her feet, “you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Can ghosts have heart attacks?” I went around to her side of the couch before glancing out the front window. “What’s wrong?”
“Thinking of everything I’ll never get to finish. Those shrubs look terrible. Wait!” She turned to me then, her image flickering as she did. “You can see me?”
“Yup.” I reached out to take her hands in mine which disintegrated as soon as we touched. “Sorry, Mags.”
She waved my comment much like someone might do with a cloud of smoke, then glanced out the window again, her eyes glistening with tears.
“This is good news, isn’t it?” Again, I tried to comfort her by placing my hand on her shoulder, stopping short of putting my hand through it. “Maybe there’s a spell—”
“To what?” she snapped, immediately turning away from me. “I’m sorry, Astrid. I didn’t mean that.”
“I know. We’ll figure something out. There has to be a way to make you more… solid. If not, maybe I can whip something up so I can hug you.” She really needed a hug. I could see it in the way she slouched her shoulders and when she refused to meet my gaze, I knew. “At least you won’t have to possess the cats anymore.”
“I suppose.” She passed Sammy a longing glance as he continued to sit in the doorway. “But if I want physical contact, it’s okay if I do, isn’t it?”
Oh, Maggie. I shook my head. “So long as the cats are okay with it, then I won’t fault you for it.”
Maggie sniffed and dried her eyes with the end of her sleeve. “I knew I should’ve kept a pack of tissues in my pocket.”
“Pajamas don’t have pockets,” I reminded her.
To prove me wrong, she shoved her hands into a pair of invisible pockets on either side of her pants. “Do so.”
Smiling, I said, “I guess there’s no way for me to give you a tissue.”
“Not unless they have ghosts of their own.”
Man, that would be weird. “I can see it now. Hundreds of them floating in the air.”
