“If you hear any more gossip from the bands, would you let me know?” I asked.
“Sure thing.” He headed toward the door and stopped as a ball of feathers shot past the front door. “I think that weird bird is back. Maybe you should contact pest control or something. It seems like a real nuisance.”
He has no idea, Gerald said dryly.
“He’s harmless,” I assured him. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Lucas paused on the porch. “Is that okay? I mean, I don’t make a habit of dropping by people’s houses unannounced. I’m not a creeper.” He cast a sidelong glance. “Like that bird.”
I gave him my most encouraging smile. “It’s totally fine, Lucas.”
Your lip is stuck to your front tooth, miss, Gerald advised.
I clamped my mouth closed and Lucas’s brow wrinkled.
“Good luck with the competition,” Lucas said. “I hope it’s a huge success.”
“Thanks. Me, too.” And I had far too much riding on it to fail.
As soon as Lucas and Leia were gone, I spun around and faced Gerald. “We need to do a locator spell on Keith Simonson.”
Actually, miss, I’ve been working on our flying monkey problem. I found a spell that can…
I waved him off. “Monkeys have to wait. I need to find Keith. If he found out that Rachel and Pete were having an affair, he could be the killer.”
Forgive me, miss, but wasn’t he on the stage when you found the victim?
“Yes, but no one knows how long Pete was on the floor,” I argued. “Keith could’ve killed him and then rushed to the stage.”
An excellent point, miss. If I could show you the information I found regarding the monkeys first… .
“There’s no time, Gerald. I’m all about multi-tasking, you know that, but I need to strike while the iron’s hot.” And while Skye and I had a deal. The minute I sang karaoke, all bets were off.
To the bat cave then, miss?
“You know I don’t call it that, Gerald. You’re not Swoops.”
Thank goodness for that.
I pulled Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility off the shelf and a secret door opened. Most people would have chosen Pride and Prejudice, but I had a soft spot for the Dashwood sisters, Elinor and Marianne.
Gerald and I entered the small room that I used for practicing magic. I couldn’t take the risk of someone noticing my extracurricular activities—someone like Lucas.
A spell book was open on the table and I glanced at the page. “This is what you’re using to deal with the flying monkeys?”
It isn’t specific to the species, but I think it will do the trick.
I flipped to the green tab marked “locator spell.” I’d added colored tabs to the book for quick references.
“Do we have all the ingredients? I need barberry bark, birch leaves, chickweed, and…”
I’m familiar with the list, miss. He fluttered to the cabinet and scanned the jars and labels, reading aloud. Angelica root, arrowroot, barberry bark, birch leaves, cackleberries, catnip, chamomile flowers… .
“Wait, back up. Did you say cackleberries?”
Yes, miss. The emergency rations.
I was a complete idiot. Of course, I had emergency rations. “After we finish the locator spell, I need you to whip up a batch of truth serum for me. Can I count on you?”
Always, miss. He finished reviewing the inventory. It appears we have what we need for the locator spell as well. It isn’t one we’ve had to concoct very often.
That was true. In fact, the last time I’d used it was when Paul the toad didn’t return home to Evian’s for a whole weekend. She was convinced he’d been flattened by a golf cart or swallowed by a pelican. She was too distraught to cast the spell herself, so I volunteered. Turned out he was spending quality time with a lady toad in the forest and did not appreciate our inopportune interruption. Although I tried to use the incident as a learning opportunity for Evian to give Paul some space, it didn’t stick. She was back to co-dependency inside of a week.
“Okay, let’s get started.” I spread the town map across the table and placed a penny in the middle.
I’ll mix the ingredients, Gerald said.
“Make sure not to spill any,” I said. “You know how hard it is to clean up those tiny pieces.”
I’m quite aware, miss, as I generally perform such tasks.
“Thanks, Gerald,” I said, when he’d finished. “I might actually make you bacon and eggs for the rest of the week.”
My hands hovered over the mixture as I recited, “Searching high and low for the singer in my show. Don’t let this be like pulling teeth. Move the penny and show me Keith.” I felt the magic’s warmth spread to my fingertips.
The penny is moving, miss, Gerald said.
Thank Goddess. I opened my eyes in time to see the penny stop over the location of the resort and spa.
“Fire up the scooter, Gerald,” I said. “Looks like I have a diva to interrogate.”
Chapter Twelve
Dylan sat behind the desk, reading a comic book, one of those male fantasy stories in which the superhero is impossibly built and his love interest has watermelons for boobs and a waist the size of my arm. Talk about wish fulfillment. When he saw me approaching, he slipped the comic book onto his lap, out of sight.
“Hey there, Kenna,” he stammered. “Are you here for a treatment? I don't remember seeing your name on the schedule because I definitely would have noticed.” He seemed to realize how stalkerish that sounded. “I mean, I always pay attention when important people in Eternal Springs have appointments here.”
That was better. I offered him my most relaxed smile. I suspected it looked more as if I were asking him to check my teeth for lettuce after eating a salad.
“Not to worry. You haven't missed anything, Dylan. I'm not here for my appointment. I'm here for someone else's. Could you take a quick look and tell me which room Keith Simonson is in? He asked me to meet him here to talk about the Battle of the Bands competition.”
Dylan shuffled papers around nervously. We both understood the situation. I was asking for confidential information and he wasn't supposed to give it to me. I’d already wrangled Mike Simpons’s location out of him, but at least Mike had been there to fix the hot tub. Director of tourism or not, I wasn’t entitled to guest information at the resort and spa. It seemed Dylan would take a bit more persuasion.
“Look, this was Keith’s idea. I already know he’s here, but I can’t remember which room he said he’d be in. I promise I won't tell anyone that you told me,” I said. “It'll be our little secret.”
Dylan hesitated. “I don't know. I feel like every time I help one of you out, it ends up biting me on the nose.”
I arched an eyebrow. “One of you?” I repeated. “What's that supposed to mean?”
His cheeks reddened. “You know, you St. Joan’s graduates.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Technically, I guess you didn't graduate from there. Anyway, you, Skye, Zola, and Evian. You always need information and I give it to you, then I get in trouble. That’s the cycle.”
I smiled demurely. “Some trouble is worth getting into, though, don’t you think?”
Dylan frowned. “No. I like my job. I don't want any trouble.”
I didn't have time for this. I should have just performed a glamour spell and disguised myself as Buddy. It would have saved me the hassle.
“Dylan, what if I make it worth your while? You tell me which room Keith is in and I'll….”
“Go for a ride with me on one of those tandem bicycles?” he asked eagerly.
That was not the response I was expecting. “You want to what?”
Dylan seemed to warm to his idea. “You know those bicycles with two seats and two sets of pedals. You can rent them from Wanda's Wheels.”
I shook my head, confused. “Yes, of course I know Wanda's Wheels.” You didn't become tourism director without knowing all of the available tourist activities. “If that
's your request, I'll honor it.”
“We’ll ride along the coastal path on a bicycle built for two,” he said happily.
Dylan was a strange kid, but a bike ride seemed to be a fair exchange. “Deal. Which room?” At this rate, Keith's treatment would be over if I didn't hurry.
“He's with Margo for a massage,” Dylan said. “I'll let you know when I can rent the bike. The tandems are super popular.”
I doubted that very much, but said, “Sounds good.” I hurried down the corridor to Margo's room. I didn't bother to knock. I simply clicked open the door and crept inside. The interior of the room was dark, but I could see Keith's face down on the table, a towel covering his backside. Margo’s fingers were kneading his shoulders.
“Who's that, Margo?” Keith asked sleepily. “I didn't ask for a friend today.”
I shot Margo a quizzical look. This was not that kind of spa. Margo rolled her eyes.
“It doesn't matter how many times you do ask for a friend,” Margo said, “it's never going to happen. Not here, anyway.”
“But I'm a rockstar,” Keith objected. “Haven't you heard the news? Fat Gandalf is going to win the Battle of the Bands and then we’re going to take off like a rocket. You can say you did me when.”
“I don't think your wife would appreciate anyone doing you except her,” Margo said.
I sat on a leather stool in the corner of the room, next to the oils and stones. The room smelled earthy like patchouli. Zola would have enjoyed the ambience. Personally, I preferred smells like cinnamon and cranberry.
“You know Rachel looks the other way,” Keith said. “It's part of our arrangement.”
“And does that arrangement work both ways?” I asked.
Keith’s chin jerked up as he tried to identify the source of the voice. “I thought I heard someone come in. Do you always barge in on massages, Kenna?”
“It's part of my job,” I lied. “I perform spot checks on the spa to make sure guests are happy. I didn't realize Margo was with a local. Sorry about that.” But I still wanted him to answer my question.
“I don't mind you staring at my naked body if you don't,” Keith said. He put his face back in the headrest.
I scowled. Keith was a piece of work. No wonder Rachel cheated on him with Pete. By all accounts, Pete was a nice guy. Keith seemed to be taking his role as lead singer far too seriously.
“So how about it?” I asked. “Is Rachel allowed to step outside the marriage as well? Seems only fair.”
“Why would she feel the need to do that when she has me?” He turned his head to the side to look at me. “She’s only taken advantage of her free pass only once, that I know of. We agreed not to tell each other, but that doesn't stop other people from talking about it.”
I decided to take a chance. “So you knew about her and Pete?”
“Ooh, yeah. Right there, babe,” he moaned, as Margo pressed harder. “Yeah, I knew. Tiffany was clueless, though. Still is, to the best of my knowledge. I hope it stays that way. No point in ruining her image of him now.”
“Were you upset when you found out about it?” I asked. “Even though you and Rachel had an agreement, I’m sure you didn’t expect her to choose your bandmate.”
Margo appeared surprisingly relaxed during the conversation. I had to imagine she’d heard worse conversations on the table.
“To be honest, it felt a little like crapping where you eat,” he said. “I prefer to keep my extracurricular activities away from our day-to-day lives. For whatever reason, Rachel and Pete decided to take advantage of their relationship. She and I haven’t talked about it, but I suspect it was more about convenience than anything else.”
“And maybe it was a little bit that Rachel wanted to get back at you,” I pressed. It seemed passive aggressive to target his drummer. If she was going to have an affair, she could have chosen the postman or any number of men not connected to Keith.
“I wasn't surprised by Rachel's choice,” Keith said. “She can be a real shrew sometimes. It was Pete's decision to participate that kinda threw me for a loop.”
“Did you ever speak to him about it?” I asked.
“No way,” Keith said. “And if he’d ever brought it up, I would have pretended not to know. No good could come from acknowledging it.”
“And are you still seeing other women?” I asked.
Keith raised his chin and stared at me. “Why? You interested? You might want to jump on the bandwagon now, before it gets too full.” He craned his neck toward Margo. “You, too, Margo.”
Margo now had a smooth stone in each hand, ready to rub them on his back. Like Keith and his women, I couldn't resist a good opportunity. I focused on the stones and said a little spell under my breath. Margo placed the stones on his back and stepped away for more oil. I continue to focus on the stones.
“Ouch! Get them off!” Keith apparently couldn't take the heat. He flipped onto his side, knocking the hot stones to the floor. “I told you before, Margo. I like them room temperature.” He whimpered like a child.
Margo's brow creased. "They were, I swear. I never warmed them up."
He glanced over to the heater to see that it was turned off.
“Sometimes our skin is unusually sensitive during times of emotional strain,” I said. “You’re probably more upset about Pete's death than you realize.”
“Of course I'm upset about Pete's death,” Keith snapped. He flipped over on the table. “Our new drummer isn’t half as good as Pete, but he's all we've got at this point. I want to win this competition. Pete would want that.”
“How's Rachel handling his death?” I asked. If she'd been having an affair with Pete, she might be more upset than she was willing to admit. I had to imagine it was difficult for her, not able to fully express her grief without tipping off her husband.
“How should I know?” he asked. “That would require us to have an actual conversation. Rachel doesn't have conversations. She talks at you.”
Sheesh. No wonder they had a semi-open marriage. It seemed like they couldn’t stand each other.
“Well, I can see you’re in good hands, so I'll move on to the next guest." I rose to my feet. "Sorry about the interruption.”
“Next time you come in here when I'm naked, you'd better be naked, too,” Keith said.
Ugh. Not a chance.
I gave Margo a sympathetic look before slipping out the door.
I stood in the kitchen, preparing bacon and eggs for Gerald for the rest of the week. I pondered my conversation with Keith as I scrambled the eggs. As much as I disliked Keith’s attitude, I didn’t think he was the killer. He seemed more upset about Pete’s absence from the band than his wife’s affair.
Stuart banged on the window with his beak. “Tut incoming!”
I crunched on an apple. “I have a doorbell, Stuart,” I said, not that the hairless cat would be able to reach it. In fact, he generally found a way into my house without knocking--one of his unsettling tricks.
Sure enough, Tut emerged in the kitchen. “You might have the decency to keep a can of tuna handy in the event of visitors.”
“I have bacon and eggs,” I said, holding up the pan.
Gerald zipped around the corner. I’m sure I can accommodate you. Give me a moment.
“There’s no time,” Tut said. “I need Kenna to come to the forest. The flying monkeys are there now.”
My teeth sank into the apple and stayed there. The flying monkeys were in the forest. Right now. I bit down and chewed slowly, trying to decide what to do. I hadn’t managed to review Gerald’s spell yet.
“Are they circling overhead or what?” I asked.
“They’re tormenting the trees at the moment,” Tut said. “The trees don’t like it when the fruit’s on the other branch.”
“Is that like they can dish it out, but they can’t take it?” I queried.
“Agatha is ready to uproot herself,” Tut said. “She’s quite distressed.”
This, I’
d like to see.
I hurried from the house and hopped on my scooter. I started the engine before I even secured my helmet, something I never did.
Shouldn’t we review the spell book first, miss? Gerald asked.
“These guys have wings, Gerald. I don’t have time to monkey around.” I hesitated. “No pun intended.”
What will you do to them, miss? Gerald asked anxiously.
“No clue,” I said. “I’ll assess the situation when I get there.”
The real question, though, was what would they do to me?
Tut led me to the Cottonmouth Copse, where the flying monkeys were tormenting the sarcastic trees. One of the monkeys was peeing on the base of a tree, while another one was hanging from a branch by his tail and pulling strips of bark off the trunk.
“Stop stripping me, you filthy animal,” Agatha shouted.
“It’s the serious dark-haired one, thank the gods,” Myra said. “I’ve never been happier to see one of your kind in my life.”
“Please, could you eject these wretched creatures from the forest?” Earl said. “They’re destroying the copse.”
The monkeys regarded me with interest.
“Her kind is a witch,” the peeing winged monkey said.
“That’s right,” I said, stepping forward. “And this is my domain you’re encroaching upon.”
“Ooh, we’re encroaching upon it, are we?” the hanging monkey said. He loosened his tail and hovered in the air beside the tree, his wings flapping at high speed like a dragonfly’s.
“What are you gonna do about it?” the third monkey jeered, “knock us down when you flip your glossy hair over your shoulder?”
“Her hair is glossy,” Earl agreed. “I’ve always admired the sheen. Do you use a special product to achieve that?”
“What are you doing here, foul beasts?” I demanded. “And what are your intentions?”
“I intend to carve out a nice piece of land for us,” the peeing monkey said. He was clearly the leader of their trio. “Now that I’ve identified adequate food sources.”
The way he said “food sources” made my skin crawl. “You mean fruit from the trees, right?”
Hotter Than Spell Page 11
