by Raven Snow
“My kid driving you up a tree yet?”
“I’m about halfway up the trunk.” I took a big bite of my taco.
“Give it time. She’ll have you in the upper branches.” Bits of chip fell from her open mouth, and she fished them out of her cleavage. Efficient. “Chip off the old block.”
Once the taco meat was in my belly, I got back on the road without using my rearview mirror. I didn’t want to see that white, white dress in the backseat. Even without looking, it felt like the garment was boring holes in the back of my head.
The next stop we made was in the church parking lot. Vic was still licking her fingers, and she yelped when she looked up and I was no longer in the car. A moment later, she was right beside me, helping me wrestle the wedding dress out of the back. Vic wasn’t fond of being left behind.
“I’m not really dressed for church,” she said as we crossed the threshold.
I eyed her. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re flashing about as much crotch as you were at the last mass.”
“That’s because Father Donovan was there.” Puffing out her chest, she swooned. “I’d love to get him out of those robes.”
“I don’t think that’s allowed.”
Picking a small room that was probably used for scout meetings, I hung my dress up in the closet in there. It went next to a half empty box of cheddar biscuits and a full jug of cranberry juice, unopened. It looked a little out of place, but I shrugged it off. I had enough trouble sleeping at night without knowing that thing was hanging in my closest.
"Does the church know you're using it as a second closet?"
"Third. I have one just for wigs."
I dropped her off at her house where Kosher was waiting for her. Sipping a mug of coffee, he smiled at Vic as she walked through the door, kissing her cheek. It was such an alien gesture from him that I almost went through their garage when I didn't shift out of drive and into reverse.
That got his attention, and he walked slowly down the driveway and rapped on my window with his knuckles. After a moment of frowning at him, I rolled it down.
Officer Kosher was not a handsome man. He was in his forties with a pot belly and side burns that could smother a man if he got too close. When he was talking or looking at me, his face was warped into a mask of distaste and dislike. I was pretty sure I had an expression to match.
He gave me an unfriendly smile. "I bet Wyatt's coming to his senses right about now. Need a place to sleep for the night?"
"No thanks. I'll just sleep on top of Wyatt. Usually changes his mind right back."
"Harpy."
"Officer."
I sped off before I could lose control and run him over. That was all I needed—to end up in jail a couple of days before my wedding. With my luck, it'd be Charles who came to bail me out. The smug look on his face would be too much, and I'd end up right back behind bars for a second murder charge. It'd be a full week.
With nothing to do with myself but think about all the things I didn't know, I headed over to Nancy's to look at the scene of the crime. The crime I could most easily investigate, anyway. I didn't think I'd be welcome back at the baker's anytime soon. At least not until the check cleared for the cake we ordered.
Nancy, psychic when it came to a chance to talk about the wedding, met me in the driveway as I was pulling up. She was wearing her dress for the wedding, a tasteful piece with an elegant neckline.
"I've been baking cookies in it," she said, noticing my look. "I just never thought I'd be the mother of the bride; I can't take it off."
Apparently, the mother of the bride got some kind of status and was expected to wear the best dress of the guests. All the other attendees had to check with Nancy before purchasing their outfits.
She'd approached me about a month back, asking if anyone was going to fill that role in the wedding. With no mother and no knowledge that I needed a mother for a wedding, I'd agreed to get her off my back. It did seem to put her in a better mood, which was a plus.
Especially when I asked to take a look at her garage.
She frowned. "Those flowers were an accident, Harper. You have enough on your plate as it is; you should leave this alone, dear."
"That dress looks really nice on you. Very mother-of-the-bride."
She was still preening and beaming a few minutes later as she deposited me at the entrance to the garage. With an explanation about checking on the cookies, she left me alone for few crucial moments. That mother-of-the-bride thing was handy. I filed it away for future use.
The cars were gone from the space with chairs and arrangements taking their places. It occurred to me that my whole wedding was in this garage, and I broke out in a sweat. The next time I'd be seeing this stuff, people would be watching me walk down the aisle in that awful dress. A lot of people. People with expectations and judgments.
Shaking off that terrifying train of thought, I headed for the fridge. The new flowers were perky and un-wilted, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Nancy would kill me if I found dead flowers again. She'd shoot the messenger on principle.
The old, dead flowers were in the garbage bin next to the fridge. As I wasn't above dumpster diving, I dove right in, smelling the flowers and feeling the residual liquid on them.
It was definitely ammonia. Not exactly hard to come by, but it implied deliberate sabotage. No one accidentally spills ammonia on flowers the way they might forget to turn down the temperature setting on the flowers.
Liam had been in the garage before I discovered the flowers, I thought, feeling a little sick. Liam also just got back from a band tour in Europe. Germany to be precise. He could have easily been replaced by a changeling. How was I to know?
Nancy opened the door and poked her head in, glaring at me with enough malicious intent that I dropped the flowers in surprise. "The cookies are ready, dear."
Though I was still full of taco, I didn't dare turn the woman down. I didn't want the news to read "Woman Stabbed with Spatula" tomorrow morning.
They were oatmeal. Which just perfectly summed up my crappy week.
Chapter Five
“You need to do something with my brothers,” Wyatt told me as I pulled the covers over my head, hoping for two more minutes.
Poking my head out, I eyed him. "Did I wake up in a porno?"
He shot me a look from the bathroom and went back to brushing his teeth. I'd thought it was pretty funny, but everyone's a critic.
"If they show up down at the station one more time, I'll kill them."
"If I spend five more minutes with them," I muttered to myself, "I'll be in the same boat."
There was no way I was getting back to sleep, so I took a shower and put on clean clothes. Wyatt was waiting for me downstairs by the time I was done, cup of tea in his hands and a pleading look on his face. I accepted the tea, because I'd never turn down a good cup, but I shook my head at him.
"What am I going to do with three men for the day?" I grinned cheekily. "I'm not as young as I once was."
"Thank god for that," he said. "Mom wants help with the flower arrangements. Apparently, we're doing this batch by hand."
"We?"
He tweaked my nose, his closeness making my knees wobble. "I have a job."
"And I just skate around in skimpy clothes for fun?"
"Mostly, yeah."
I took a long pull on the mug. "Point to you."
He took the tea away from me, which was never a smart move. But he replaced the mug with his lips on mine, so I figured I'd forgive him the faux pas. He tasted minty, and there was a little bit of stubble around his mouth. It made me wish we had the house to ourselves.
Pulling back, he said, "If you could just take them, and keep them there, I'd be very grateful."
I looked him up and down, pausing on the parts I liked, so it took a while. "How grateful?"
He whispered in my ear, and I blushed faintly. It was a good thing Cooper was still sleeping upstairs, because that was not for children’s ears.
<
br /> Like my thinking about him had summoned the devil, Cooper came roaring down the stairs, bed head, pajamas, and all. He stopped long enough to roll his eyes at our entwined bodies and then went straight for the cereal. Pursing my lips, I glared at the back of the twerp’s head, thinking about the possibilities of boarding school.
"Fine," I said. "I'll take your brothers off your hands, but just for today."
He peppered my face with kisses, making me giggle like a school girl, and then he was out the door before I could change my mind. Leaning against the counter, I watched him drive away, the corner of my lip curving. That man could talk me into anything, which was part of the reason I was marrying him.
Liam was the next Bennett down the stairs, surprisingly. He seemed like the sleeping-in type, while Charles and Tom were definitely early risers.
"That little monster woke me up at the ass crack of dawn," he said, pouring himself a huge cup of coffee.
I'd almost forgotten that while Tom and Charles were sleeping in the study, Liam was stuck with the kids in Cooper's room. If it'd been me, I'd have checked into a hotel just as soon as I learned the sleeping arrangements.
And I've spent time squatting in abandoned crack houses.
"Hope kept kicking me in her sleep," Cooper complained, showing me the bruises that covered his body.
"She probably wasn't asleep."
I then went on to explain to him that while we were away making bouquets, he'd be the man of the house. And sometimes the man of the house had to do horrible, horrible things. Like keep an eye on Hope for the day. I advised him to wear thick sweaters, protect the important bits at all times, and keep her entertained.
He watched us pull out of the driveway not a half hour later, and I swore I saw tears in his eyes. But he was a brave little soldier, and I gave him a salute.
"Is it safe to leave the kids home alone?" Tom asked when we turned off our street.
"They're far less likely to burn down the house than I am," I said, prompting a giggle from Liam, who was riding co-pilot.
In reality, I'd called on both Vic and Oliver. Neither could be there all day, but they were taking shifts and were going to check in at least every hour. I trusted Cooper completely. Hope, on the other hand, could overpower the boy. She had that killer instinct.
Nancy was overjoyed to see her boys, and I was overjoyed that she'd finally taken off the dress. Ushering us into the house, she offered us cookies and refreshments. I'd had enough oatmeal for the week, so I declined.
The massive kitchen table was covered in flowers, ribbons, and other craft supplies. To keep the plants fresh, she'd turned down the heat as low as it could go, and I shivered when my butt connected with one of the frozen wood chairs.
"Hey, Mom," Liam said, taking the seat next to me and wrapping his arms around himself. "What about some hot chocolate?"
"I only have the fat-free kind, baby. It's practically the same though."
Liam met my eyes, and we shook our heads in unison, lips in a flat, disappointed line. Still, the cocoa was warm. Definitely not the same as full fat, and but at least there were marshmallows to be had.
While we were all sipping our drinks, Nancy showed us how to put together the arrangements. It looked a bit like the origami I'd never gotten the hang of, and I got a little motion sick watching her whip those flowers into shape.
I saw Charles take the marshmallows out of his mug, wasting them, and I hoped for the thousandth time that he was the changeling. Having a brother-in-law that didn't like marshmallows would be too embarrassing.
While I was wrecking the flowers with Nancy watching my every move, I eyed the brothers one by one. Tom actually seemed to have the hang of it, but the other two were struggling just as much as I was. Charles growled something at one flower that just wouldn't stand up straight, and I was surprised he kissed his mother with that mouth.
Nothing in any of their movements or behaviors screamed "changeling" to me. I heaved out a frustrated sigh. Without any clue on which to test first, I was lost. Not only did I not have any pure iron, I didn't have a way to make them touch it without revealing myself and warning the real changeling.
Besides the iron, I'd have to wait until they revealed themselves to me. If I could catch one of them red-handed in trying to torment my poor wedding, that would seal the deal.
Suddenly, I wondered what happened to the real brother. If the changelings just take their place, not taking over their bodies, like the lore said, the real Charles, Tom, or Liam must be trapped somewhere. If I could find the real one, that would lead me to the duplicate.
If I were a changeling, I'd keep them close, so I could be sure they wouldn’t escape and ruin my fun. That was if I didn't kill them to assure they wouldn't. The thought made my stomach shift uneasily. Could one of Wyatt's brothers already be dead? It was an unpleasant thought, even if two out of three of them were asses.
I would have done anything to save Wyatt the pain of losing a family member—an all too familiar feeling for me. But in that moment, I was afraid I was too late to do much of anything.
Shoving those thoughts aside, I focused on the flowers which were coming apart thanks to my rough handling. I couldn't think about Wyatt losing a brother and keep it together, so I wouldn't think about it until I had to.
"Does mine look a bit like a swastika to you?" Liam asked, showing me his bouquet.
Yes. Yes, it did.
I tapped it thoughtfully, hiding a smile. "Maybe I should rethink the theme of my wedding."
"Just don't tell Mom it was my idea."
Chapter Six
Wyatt made good on all his promises that night, and I fell asleep exhausted and happy about it. When I woke up, the sun was higher in the sky than usual. Stretching, I smiled when I smelled bacon and pancakes wafting up the stairs and into my bedroom. Even the chatter of the kids, brothers, and Wyatt sounded endearing.
Life just looks rosier when you're getting laid.
I didn't have time to enjoy the sensation, though, because I had to meet Jeb at the Funky Wheel after a quick breakfast. Cleaning wasn't something we did often, but it was a necessary evil in this case. A couple of people had puked all over the place last night, which Jeb had informed me in a 4 AM text. Luckily, I was feeling pretty good just then and shrugged it off. I could deal with a little puke.
I'd probably go right from cleaning to opening the Wheel to the public tonight, so I looked around for one of my disco outfits.
Usually, it was like finding noodles at an Asian market. Impossible to miss. But after shifting through all the clothes in the hamper–Wyatt had put them there–I frowned. My next stop was the closet and the chest of drawers. When that turned up empty, I checked the laundry room to see if they were in the wash or waiting to be ironed. Wyatt liked to iron things for some reason.
But they weren't there either.
Feeling a little frantic, I turned all the clothes in the upper half of the house upside-down. There wasn't a disco short or see-through tank in sight. A cold sweat broke out over my body, and I paused by the stairs. The sound of Charles' laughter hit me right in the face, and I snarled. "That does it."
I stormed down the stairs and ran straight into Wyatt as he was coming out of the kitchen. Stopping mid-shift, he got a good look at my face and deliberately put himself in my way. It was a bit like trying to stop a train with your bare hands.
"What's wrong?"
"I didn't say a word when the flowers were ruined or when your family’s punch got spiked," I seethed. "Crush me with a cake, disappear my priest, ruin Vic's dress…hey, that's fine."
"What happened to Vic's dress?"
But I was a speeding train on the tracks, and I was not going to be derailed by anything. My head felt very hot, and everything had taken on an angry, red tint.
"But steal my disco clothes, and you've gone too far."
I was yelling by that point, the whole family gathering just outside the kitchen to watch the fireworks. Hope looked ec
static, Cooper and Liam looked worried, but Tom and Charles just looked at me like I was crazy. When Cooper would've gone to comfort me, Charles pulled him back, shaking his head.
I actually considered throwing a huge fire ball at his face. That was an indication of just how mad I was.
Stomping over to the two of them, I wrenched Cooper from his grip. "You know, for someone with no kids of their own, you seem to have a lot of opinions about how I raise mine."
His smile was cold. "He's not yours."
Wyatt opened his mouth, looking livid, but I cut him off. This was between me and his brothers.
Charles was easily a foot taller than me, but through sheer force of will, I got up in his face. "Stay out of my way." Turning on my heel, I dragged Cooper out the door with me. "And stay away from my kid."
I buckled him up in my bug even though I knew he didn't need the help. Being the good sensible boy that he was, Cooper didn't protest or ask where we were going until I stopped muttering under my breath.
"Why don't my uncles like you?"
I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and call them every name in the book. I wanted to tell Cooper that his uncles were horrible people that judged people before they knew them.
But I didn't say any of that.
"We're just...different, Coop," I said, feeling more tired than when I'd gone to bed last night. "You don't need to worry about it."
Because like it or not, Charles and Tom were good to Cooper. I'd even go so far to say they loved him as much as I did. I'd go that far reluctantly, though. It wasn't in me to turn him against his family, even if they'd already turned against me.
I risked a glance over at Cooper in the passenger seat, who was glaring intensely at his lap. The kid obviously had big things on his mind. Distracting him, I pinched his cheek and messed up his hair a bit.
When he stubbornly didn't look up, I said, "Hey, you." I wiped a bit of pancake mix from his chin. "You're my favorite, you know that, right?"
