by Amy Boyles
A flutter of kinship filled my heart. I smiled. “Thanks, Nan. Okay, so what do we need to do?”
Milly caned over to the card table. “If we’re going to find this guy, we need a way to do that.”
I snapped my fingers. “I think I’ve got his cell number in here somewhere.” My fingers brushed the end of the manila envelope. I tugged it out, opened the tab and dropped all the contents on the table.
I dug through the mess until I found the card. “Ah, here it is. Who’s going to call?”
Grandma reached for the card. “My dear, the last thing we’re going to do is call the number.”
“Then what are you going to do with it?” I said.
“We’re going to use Witch GPS,” Milly said, using her cane to push Uno to the edge of the table.
“I’m not following.”
Grandma smiled brightly. “We’re going to use some magic to locate the phone. It’s like magical GPS. That’s what Milly means.”
“Magical GPS, Witch GPS, same thing,” she grumbled.
“Is your bursitis acting up?” I said.
Milly scowled. “No. Why?”
“Because you’re being awfully persnickety. And not in a good way.”
She dismissed me with a wave. “I’m being myself. That’s all I know how to be.”
I rubbed the back of my hand over my forehead, trying to find a way to distract myself from the overwhelming frustration I felt with the women. “Okay. How do we do magical GPS?”
“The first thing you do,” Grandma said, “is concentrate on the numbers. Focus on them as if you’re shooting an arrow straight to their source.”
“Shooting an arrow straight to their source,” I repeated slowly, trying to wrap my brain around the meaning of the words. “So I need to focus on the numbers and then imagine I’m charting a course to the origin?”
Grandma clapped me on the shoulder. “Listen to our little witch who’s all grown up. That’s the ticket! I always knew you’d become one of the smartest witches I know.”
I frowned. “You’re the one who kept our heritage a secret from us.”
She touched her silvery curls. “Tomayto, Tamahto.”
“That doesn’t make sense in this situation.”
Grandma smiled mischievously. “It does to me.”
“I suppose that’s all that matters.”
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Milly said. “My program’s going to be on soon. I don’t like to miss it. I’ve got to find out if Gina had a secret baby or not.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I said, warming my hands as if it was thirty degrees in the house and not eighty.
I rubbed them until a burr of magic ignited in my palms. It poked my skin, sending a jolt of power fluttering up to my elbow. “This sucker’s live and hot. Hand me the card.”
Grandma extended it. “Close your eyes and see where you go.”
I hesitated, remembering everything that Roman had told me. But Roman wasn’t here. I could easily look Flynn up and be home in time for dinner. Then I’d wait for Vera to call, and I’d either drop the case or tell her where her husband was.
Something occurred to me. “Why didn’t Vera just do this whole magical GPS thing?”
Grandma and Milly exchanged a look. “Well, it’s not technically a spell we’ve ever shared with the world before. It’s something we came up with. Not everyone can locate, and few can do it with a phone number. By the way, you’re not doing this alone. We’re going to help you.”
“You are?”
Milly snorted. “Close your eyes, toots, and get ready for the ride of your life.”
I looked at the numbers on the card and grabbed it. At the same time Milly and Grandma placed a hand on each of my shoulders. Heat like a hot wire jolted straight to my heart. My nerve endings fried as I gripped the paper. My body shook and trembled, threatening to snap in two.
“Hang on,” Grandma said.
I was inside a tunnel traveling at the speed of light. Stars and stardust zoomed past me like I was riding a cosmic roller coaster. I accelerated straight up at a blistering rate.
Then I stopped.
My breath hitched. My mouth was dry. Literally. I knew this was like a hallucination, but it all felt so real. I floated in the air, suspended and weightless.
Then a tug pulled on my leg and I fell, plummeting straight down. Blue sky and green trees whizzed past. It all looked incredibly familiar, but at the same time so foreign. Like I was looking at a picture of a mountain; I understood all the elements—trees, snow, grass—but I’d never seen them put together in that exact order.
Finally a picture I did recognize flashed before me. First Baptist Church on the hill, the sleepy hamlet of Silver Springs, even the lake close by, all converged in a series of images I knew. The sweet scents of freshly cut grass—actually of the wild onions that grew in most of the yards here—along with the smell of honeysuckles wafted up my nose.
I flew through downtown and came up Main before stopping in front of a store. My throat closed as I read the letters on the sign. The image melted away like rain washing down a windshield.
My eyelids fluttered open. “Flynn Stone is here. He’s in Silver Springs.”
Milly and Grandma released their iron grips on my shoulders. The flow of magic stopped suddenly, making my head swim as I struggled to find my balance back in the real world.
“Tell us, Dylan,” Grandma said, shaking me hard enough to knock my head off. “Don’t leave us in suspense. Where is he?”
A slow smile curved on my lips. “He’s at Gus’s, home of the deep-fried burger.”
SEVEN
Me, Milly and Grandma sat in my car outside Gus’s. I stared at the grime-streaked windows and the sign that read CASH ONLY, NO CHECKS OR CARDS ACCEPTED.
“Do you think he’s still in there?” Grandma said.
I elbowed her. “I don’t know. Why don’t you go look?”
“Because, Dylan,” she said in that superior grandmother tone of hers, “this is your case, not mine.”
“But don’t you want to see him? The Maleficium guy?”
She folded her papery hands over one knee. “Why? I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen panthers who thought they were human, baboons who stole women to be their wives. I’ve even seen ants create cities more complex and efficient than our own.”
“And you didn’t think to move there permanently?” I said.
Her glare practically drilled a hole in my forehead. “If I wasn’t around, who would help you do things like track down evil witches?”
I clicked my tongue in appreciation. “That is true.”
Milly’s gnarled nose appeared between the two seats. “If you two scaredy-cats don’t go in there, I’ll go in and find out who this Flynn is and offer to sleep with him if he can grant me a wish.”
Alarms blared in my head. I did not need Milly causing a scene I couldn’t live down. “Okay, okay. I’ll go in and see if I can figure out who he is. Wish me luck.”
Grandma blinked like a doe-eyed ingénue from a silent movie. “Oh, you won’t need luck. We’ll be watching through the windows.”
“I hate you both.”
I climbed from my car, cussing under my breath the whole way. I knew this was my responsibility, my job, but why the heck had they come with me if it wasn’t for backup?
To laugh at me, that’s why. They wanted to watch me walk into a restaurant, look awkwardly around and try to figure out who Flynn Stone was right in the middle of the lunch rush.
Well, I could do that. I could find the target and get him to admit who he was. Heck, I had a picture of him somewhere in that stupid manila envelope. Of course it happened to be tucked in my purse, which didn’t help me at all, but I’m pretty sure if I concentrated hard I could remember what he looked like.
Mop of brown hair. Right. Nerdy glasses. Crisp shirt. Got it.
See? I could do this job with my eyes closed.
I pushed the door and entered Gus’s
. Booths lined one wall while stools bumped up against the counter. A line snaked to the cash register. Half the town had shown up to swallow their daily dose of cholesterol and Crisco in one meal so they didn’t have to split it into two sittings.
As I stood in the back of the line, I tried to nonchalantly survey the diners. One was Mrs. Peterson. She lived a few doors down and always waved when I drove past. Definitely not my suspect.
Another were two men in ties and button-downs. Their hair was perfectly in place and their ties were thrown over their shoulders. Looked like local lawyers catching a meal before heading back to the courthouse.
A man in a back booth wore a crimson ball cap with a large A on the front. Alabama fan. Crap. I hadn’t asked Vera if her husband pulled for Alabama or Auburn, the two big college football teams in the state.
Personally I was an Auburn fan. War Eagle all the way. I would never in a thousand years say Roll Tide to anyone.
But Silver Springs was split fifty-fifty. You could tell by the yard decorations. Half the houses flew red porch flags with an A stitched on the face; the others sported orange flags with an A.
The line moved. I took a few steps and noticed a man perched on a stool at the end of the counter.
He wore an orange cap with an A.
Crap. Auburn fan.
Why the heck hadn’t I asked Vera?
I eyed the two men without being obvious. At least, what I felt like wasn’t obvious as I made my way to the front of the line and ordered. They were both elbow-deep in fried burgers and French fries.
I picked the first booth to sit in. From there I could easily watch the men as I decided what to do next.
The problem was, both had brown hair and similar builds. The hats were tugged down hard, to the eyes. They ate with shoulders hunched, keeping much of their faces blocked.
So I couldn’t really get a good look at them. While I was trying to figure out how to decipher which one was Flynn, the door opened. Two cackling women strolled in.
Every head turned, including mine.
“Well, Milly, what do you say we eat ourselves a burger?” Grandma said.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Milly said.
I groaned and sank down. Why the heck had they shown up? To torture me or make me look stupid? Odds were good on both.
They ordered and whirled around. “Why, look. Place is full. There’s nowhere to sit,” Grandma announced.
Milly pointed her cane at me. “Let’s sit with that young whippersnapper over there.”
My heart jumped to my throat.
Grandma rapped her knuckles on the Formica. “Mind if we join you?”
“Not at all,” I ground out. Of course I minded if they sat with me. I was trying to figure out who the heck was Flynn Stone.
They squeezed into the booth. Grandma winked at me and leaned over. “You were taking too long so we thought we’d help.”
I rolled my eyes.
Milly turned to Grandma. “Looks like we hurt her feelings.”
My words spewed out fierce and fast. “You’re not hurting my feelings. You’re sabotaging my investigation. There’s a big difference.”
Grandma glanced side to side before placing a white hand to her chest. “Who? Us? We’re helping.”
“By making spectacles of yourself?” I hissed.
“Dylan, we don’t wear glasses,” she said.
I sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you said.”
“Never mind.” It was useless arguing with her. “What do you want?”
“It’s like Hazel said,” Milly snapped. “To help. Now. Tell us what to do. It’s your investigation.”
I hitched an eyebrow. “Let me get this straight. You walked in here throwing your hands up and announcing to the world you’ve arrived, and now you want to be all stealthy?”
“Sounds about right,” Grandma said, tapping her hands. “What’ve you got?”
I settled back. Okay. Maybe they were here to help and not completely sabotage me. If that was the case, I needed to use my grandmothers and use them wisely.
I sneaked a furtive glance at both men. Both of them were nose-deep in their business—Alabama a newspaper and Auburn his cell phone.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Targets are at ten and two o’clock. Both wearing baseball caps so I can’t get a good look to see which one is Flynn.”
Grandma lifted a napkin and dropped it in the aisle. “Clumsy me. Always dropping things.” She placed both feet outside the booth and swept down, taking the time to case our suspects.
When she righted herself, she rubbed her back. “I really need to add chondroitin into my pill box. Damned arthritis getting to me again.”
Milly swatted at her. “Just spell yourself some new cushioning in your back. You’ll thank me for it.”
Grandma studied her. “That’s a great idea. Why, I remember a time when a horde of magical gnats made themselves bodies of steel so they could swarm around people’s heads without being squashed. It was a strange case. One of the weirdest I’d ever worked on.”
“I doubt it,” I said.
Grandma spewed weird stories like geysers gushed water. I heard about a thousand a day, and each one was stranger than the last.
Her gaze drilled into me. “I take it you don’t want to hear my story.”
“No. We need to hurry before one of them leaves.”
Milly’s lip curled. “That’s when we’re going to figure out who’s who.”
“How?” I said.
Milly pointed at Grandma. “Show her, Hazel.”
Grandma crossed her arms and jutted out her bottom lip like a giant old-lady baby. “I don’t know if I want to help someone who hurts my feelings.”
I raked my fingers down my face. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and called your stories pointless.”
“I didn’t hear you say that,” she snipped.
Apparently I’d only thought it. Well, the cat had jumped out of the sack on that one.
I folded my hands in prayer. “Listen, I’m sorry. Please help me however you can. I need all the assistance I can buy.”
Grandma turned to Milly. “Oh? Are we getting paid for this? You didn’t say anything about that.”
I had to fist my hands so I didn’t reach over and strangle her. Yes, I know it was the wrong reaction. Yes, I know this was my grandmother, but she was driving me crazy.
I wanted to scream so loudly the roof blew off Gus’s.
But instead I gulped down several large breaths, smoothed my hair and flattened my palms on my thighs.
“Tell me what to do,” I said.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Milly said. She pointed a finger at the door.
It blew open, blasting a tunnel of air into the restaurant. The ticket wheel squeaked as it whirled. Gus slapped it to a stop.
My hair rustled and my clothes ruffled.
But the most important thing was that Auburn guy’s cap blew slap off his head and landed on the floor.
He dipped to grab it. As he straightened, our eyes met. His cheeks were rounder and his nose flatter than the picture of Flynn. Not my guy.
“Not ten o’clock,” I said.
My gaze darted to Alabama hat. That cap hadn’t moved one inch. Not even a millimeter. That sucker must’ve been cemented to Alabama guy’s head.
“The hat’s still on the guy in back,” I whispered.
Milly thumbed her nose. “Looks like we need bigger guns, Hazel.”
“I didn’t bring any guns,” my grandmother said, “but I did bring chewing gum.”
I rubbed at a knot of tension in my neck. “Gum? How’s that going to help?”
Grandma flashed a grin that was more toothy than not. “Just watch.”
She pulled a stick from her purse and twisted around. No one was paying attention to her. All faces were buried in one thing or another. Grandma peeled off the silver wrapper, popped the gum into her mouth and gave it several
good chews. Then she threw it over her shoulder.
Oh dear Lord, yes, she threw a wad of nasty chewed gum over one shoulder.
I watched in horror, my stomach falling to the floor, as spit-ridden spearmint sailed through the air.
It came to land splat on Alabama’s head.
I dropped my face to the table. “Lord, please tell me this isn’t happening.”
Grandma poked my shoulder so hard she just about pushed me up. “Look, Dylan. Just watch.”
I peeled one cheek from the Formica, which probably had more nasty germs ground into it than I wanted to think about.
So I peeled the other side of my face from the cool surface. I opened one eye and then the other.
Alabama had pulled his hat off and was scraping the gum away. He glared at the ceiling, obviously trying to figure out where the heck that gum had come from.
Finally he shrugged his shoulders and tugged the hat back on.
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. My heart hammered against my ribs. My blood pressure shot straight to the heavens as I absorbed the scene in front of me.
“It’s not him,” I said.
Milly drummed her fingers on the table. “Must’ve left before we got here.”
“We arrived like five minutes after we worked the spell,” I whispered, low enough that no one could hear me.
They both stared blankly at me.
“Okay. I guess he left. We could do the spell again,” I said, “and pray that he doesn’t slip through our fingers this time.”
“Number forty-four,” Gus called out.
I glanced at my receipt. “That’s me.”
I slid from the booth and headed to the counter. Movement flickered in my peripheral vision. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alabama heading in my direction.
Oh dear Lord, he knew it was us. He’d figured out that Grandma had destroyed his favorite hat and he was going to yell at me. Maybe worse. Maybe he was going to force me to buy him a new hat.
As I said, Bama was not my team, y’all.
I reached for my tray as Alabama stopped beside me. He extended a hand. “Found this phone in the booth. Owner might come back for it.”
Nerves bumped and jumbled in my stomach. This was it! It was Flynn’s phone. Had to be.
