Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2)

by Kristen Painter

  I sighed. “I just didn’t think genies were real.”

  She snorted softly. “You remember where you live now, right? This is Nocturne Falls. Also, can I just remind you that your uncle is Santa Claus? You of all people should know anything is possible.”

  She had a point. I took a breath and put both hands on the counter. “So…a genie. That would explain what happened. But shouldn’t I have seen the genie? Shouldn’t there have been a puff of smoke or something?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know how this stuff works. It’s not always how it is in the movies. But if it is, you might have two wishes left.”

  “I need to be careful what I say in my apartment, then.” I rubbed my forehead. I wouldn’t want some offhand comment to become my next reality. Unless it was wishing for a lifetime supply of chocolate doughnuts. Can you imagine if they all showed up at once? What a way to die. I refocused on the matter at hand. “Why would anyone sell a box with a genie in it?”

  “Maybe they didn’t know? It could have been locked the whole time. That woman Bryn said the owners collected things from their travels. And if they were supernaturals, which is a fairly high probability in this town, there’s no telling what kind of places and shops they might have been to.”

  “Very true. I think I need to find out who the owners were.”

  Juniper nodded, smiling at another entering customer. “That would be a good starting place. And you know who could help you with that?”

  “Greyson?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Cooper. He’s a fireman. Firemen know who lives where. Or they can at least find out.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. He’ll be over for dinner tonight, as you know. I can wait until then. I mean, this whole thing could be temporary.” I didn’t want Cooper to think I was making excuses to talk to him. Maybe I’d text Greyson instead. Just as soon as I left the shop.

  “Maybe, but it might be fun if it wasn’t. You’d never get lonely. So long as Spider isn’t super chatty.” Juniper gave me a little shrug. “This is Nocturne Falls, Jayne. You have to expect the unexpected.”

  “I suppose you’re right. And it’s not like Spider got turned into a giant version of his namesake or anything. Talking’s not so bad.”

  “Exactly.” She crossed her arms. “You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. I’ll be in my office most of the day. Right after I get some breakfast at Mummy’s. I feel the need for something supremely over the top.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Maybe go put some mascara on that other eye first.”

  “Good call.” I smiled back. “Thanks for talking me down. I’ll let you know when I get back from breakfast. You want anything?”

  “No, I ate before I came in. Thanks, though.” She turned to help a customer who’d come up to the counter. I made my exit, heading back to the apartment.

  Spider was still asleep, and I felt a little strange being happy about that. I loved my cat. But the talking was weird. Well, maybe it wasn’t the talking that bothered me so much as not knowing why he could suddenly communicate. I’d feel better once I knew for sure what had happened.

  Which was where Greyson came in. I pulled out my phone.

  Breakfast at Mummy’s in ten minutes. You in?

  I went to add mascara to my naked lashes. He texted back as I was slipping the tube back into my makeup bag.

  Morning, love. I’m in. See you there.

  I grinned. The only thing better than devouring a plate of Mummy’s chocolate-chip banana pancakes was devouring them with Greyson.

  Greyson didn’t technically meet me at Mummy’s since I arrived ahead of him. No big deal. I got a table and ordered a Dr Pepper while I waited.

  He was only a few minutes behind me, and in a way, I was glad I’d gotten there first. Gave me a great seat from which to watch and enjoy his entrance. He sauntered through the restaurant in his typical getup, which was sort of a darkly romantic, slightly Gothic look with a little Victorian flair thrown in—black leather pants with a lace-up fly, a billowy white shirt, and tall black boots, along with his usual pile of silver necklaces, rings and bracelets.

  Mixed in with those necklaces was a black leather cord holding a little pouch. I was pretty sure his ability to walk in daylight came from whatever magical ingredients that pouch contained.

  It wasn’t hard to see why he’d been hired to play one of the characters who roamed Nocturne Falls’ streets, taking pictures with tourists and generally adding to the Halloween-every-day vibe that earned the town its dollars. Not only did he look the part of the Vampire On Duty, he exuded an air of dangerous sex appeal that was exactly what you’d expect from one of the undead.

  He was the quintessential vampire. And more Aidan Turner than Johnny Depp these days, but I was a hundred percent all right with that.

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek before taking the seat across from me. “You look lovely.”

  Sure, now that I had mascara’d both eyes. I smiled. “And you look roguishly handsome as always.”

  “You flatter me.” But he smiled back, clearly pleased.

  He had to know he looked good, because if I wasn’t oblivious to the admiring stares he drew from the other restaurant patrons, then he wasn’t either.

  The server showed up almost instantly. Greyson always got good service. She handed him a menu. “Morning, doll. What can I get for you?”

  “Coffee.” He kept his gaze on me a second longer before looking at her. “Thank you.”

  “Coming right up. I’ll be right back to take your orders.” She twittered away.

  He slid his hand across the table and laid it over mine. “How are you, my love? I was starting to think I’d lost your favor.”

  “No. Definitely not that. I’ve just been swamped with work.” As I mentioned, I hadn’t seen a lot of Cooper lately, but I hadn’t seen much of Greyson either.

  He nodded. “How’s the transition going?”

  “Good so far.”

  “The new employees working out, then?”

  “Very well. Kip’s a fast learner, and Holly is a little quiet, but a good worker. They’re both fitting in well. The third and final employee should be arriving next week.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Then maybe you’ll be free for dinner more often.”

  “Maybe.” I smiled as the server returned to take our order.

  She beamed at Greyson. Naturally. “What can I get you, hon?”

  “Steak, rare, three eggs, over easy, home fries and biscuits.” He handed her the menu.

  “You got it, sugar.” After a long second, the waitress turned to me. “And for you?”

  “Full stack of the banana chocolate-chip pancakes with whipped cream and a side of bacon. Oh, and I need a cinnamon bun to go. Extra frosting.” I turned over my menu to her as well.

  “Coming up.” She left us, menus tucked under her arm.

  Greyson popped a brow. “You’re going to need a shot of insulin after a breakfast like that.”

  I grinned. “I can handle my sugar. The cinnamon bun isn’t for me, though. It’s for Juniper. Who can also handle her sugar.” Juniper might have said she didn’t want anything, but I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t turn down a cinnamon bun from Mummy’s. “I owe her after she took me to this great estate sale this morning.”

  “Oh? Did some shopping, did you?”

  I sipped my Dr Pepper. “I did. Got some great stuff for my place. That’s part of why I asked you to breakfast.”

  “Did you buy me a present now?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, my mouth pursed in mock judgment. “Are you saying my company isn’t already a gift?”

  He laughed. “It’s all I could ever want and more.”

  “Good answer. I was actually hoping you might know who lived at the house that was holding the sale. It’s that Victorian with the turret on Phantom Lane. The one with the big wraparound front porch.”

  He smirked. “That describes almost all the h
ouses on Phantom Lane. That whole neighborhood is old Victorians. But I know the one you mean, since the only one for sale recently was the Greshams’ place. What do you need to know about them?”

  I kept my voice low. “Were they supernaturals?”

  He hesitated. “After a fashion.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “She did some card reading on the side, but it wasn’t anything serious. More of a party trick, really. But he was a psychometrist.”

  I scrunched up my face in confusion. “Translation?”

  Greyson put his hands out in front of him like he was holding something. “Roger Gresham claimed he could read objects. Tell you a thing’s history just by touching it. True or not, it’s what drove the success of their shop.”

  “Their shop?” As suspected, my favorite vampire was a wealth of information.

  “They had a curiosity shop here in town. Then, about a year ago, he apparently fell in love with another woman, filed for divorce, and left town with his new flame for life in Sedona, Arizona. Francine was heartbroken and closed the business down. But the house only went up for sale a few months ago.”

  Greyson leaned in. “I think too, that without Roger to read objects, the shop lost some of its appeal. Or maybe Francine just didn’t have it in her to be surrounded by all those things that reminded her of the man who’d broken her heart. Either way, she’s become a bit of a recluse lately. On a rare occasion, you might see her at the Shop-n-Save, but that’s it. Otherwise, she rarely leaves that house. But I guess she must be moving now that the house has sold.”

  I nodded. “Everything inside looked pretty much packed up. Where was their store?”

  “Their old shop was where Delaney’s Delectables is now. It housed an insurance agency briefly, but they moved to a larger space and then it sat empty until Delaney took it over.”

  “Huh.” I sat back. “I love that place, so I can’t say I wish the Greshams still had their shop, but it’s so sad that her husband did that to her.” I knew what it was like to feel betrayed by a man. Even if that betrayal had really been a big mix-up. Still, I crossed my arms and narrowed my gaze. “Men.”

  His brows lifted. “Am I being included in that scurrilous company?”

  I smiled. “No. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

  He grinned. “A lad can dream.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  He flashed a smile. “Birdie Caruthers, the sheriff’s aunt. She’s also the receptionist at the sheriff’s department and I help out with events once in a while. Crowd control, that sort of thing. Birdie likes me. And she likes to talk.”

  What woman didn’t like him? Besides Juniper. “And you obviously like to listen.”

  His smile stayed put. “Information is a powerful thing.”

  “True enough.”

  The server returned with our monstrous plates of food, and we spent the next few minutes attacking it. Well, I attacked. Greyson ate with gusto, but only one of us ended up with syrup in their hair. And it wasn’t him. In my defense, the butter was really far away.

  As I dipped my napkin into my water glass to work on my sticky tresses, Greyson rested his knife on the edge of his plate. “You didn’t say why you want to know about the Greshams. Is there more to your line of questioning?”

  “Yes!” How had I forgotten? Chocolate-chip banana pancakes were very distracting, that’s how. “Do you think Francine might have been selling stuff from the shop at the estate sale? Like, supernatural stuff? Because one of things I picked up seems like it might have done…something to Spider.”

  “Many of their things were of a supernatural bent, so it’s possible. And yes, I’m sure a lot of the items up for sale today were left over from the shop. What exactly did you buy, and what did it do to your cat?”

  I lowered my voice and leaned in. “I bought this fancy decorative box, which Spider proceeded to knock off the coffee table in one of his catnip-induced rampages through the apartment. Anyway, I thought the top was stuck on, but the fall cracked it open, and now he can talk.”

  “Spider?”

  “Yep.” I stabbed a hunk of pancake.

  “You mean he meows a lot?”

  “No, I mean he spoke to me.”

  Greyson blinked a few times. “Your cat can talk. In actual words. English words.”

  I nodded. “Yep. I swear on my uncle’s beard.”

  “And you think the box and this new…ability are related.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t think of what else might have caused it. There’s some green iridescent powder inside the box. Like a magical dust maybe? Or the residue of a spell. Or some other kind of magical thing. That’s really all I have to go on. I figured if I could talk to whoever owned the box and find out what was in there, I’d at least know what I’m dealing with.”

  Greyson nodded. “Francine might see you. She’s not exactly the type that takes visitors, but this is a special case.”

  “I’d say. Having a talking cat is a little unnerving.”

  He picked up his fork again, this time going after his home fries. “I know someone who might be able to get you in to see her.”

  “Who’s that?”

  He downed a mouthful of potatoes before answering. “The most connected werewolf I know. My good friend, Birdie Caruthers.”

  Half an hour later, despite the paperwork waiting for me back at the office, I walked into the sheriff’s department with Greyson so he could introduce me to Birdie. No time like the present and all that. The takeout bag containing Juniper’s cinnamon roll hung from my hand. Greyson had gotten another one as a gift for the woman we’d come to see.

  The older woman behind the reception desk, who I assumed was Birdie, was on the phone. “You don’t say?” She gasped. “Are you certain? Well, bless her heart, that is highly unusual. I don’t see how a deputy can help, but I’ll send someone over. Yes, right away. All right. Y’all take care now. Bye-bye.”

  She hung up and turned to us, her face lighting up with a big smile when she saw Greyson. “Well, now, Greyson Garrett. This is an unexpected pleasure. What brings you in here? Did you get called in for something? Because if you did, no one said a word to me about it.”

  “No, I didn’t get called in. But I did bring you a cinnamon roll from Mummy’s.” He put the container on the counter in front of her.

  “That was so thoughtful! You know how I love those things.” She popped open the container and inhaled. “Oh, that’s going to ruin my lunch and I don’t even care.” She closed it and set it aside. “Now I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night, so out with it. What exactly are you after?”

  He touched his hand to his chest. “I’d say I’m insulted that you think so little of me, but I appreciate a woman who gets to the heart of it.” He shifted his hand to my shoulder. “I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. She’s new in town. And since I know how much you like Christmas, I thought you ought to meet her. This is Jayne Frost, new manager of Santa’s Workshop Toy Store.”

  Birdie’s eyes lit up, and she stood to shake my hand. “It is so nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you. You’re a real live princess, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Ooo,” Birdie exclaimed. “I’ve never met royalty before. Unless you count Myrtis Lobb the Peach Cobbler Queen, which I do not. What’s it like being a princess?”

  “It’s…very nice. There are a lot fewer jewels than you’d imagine.”

  “I’ve also heard Santa Claus is your uncle.” Birdie shook her head. “I can’t even. The North Pole sounds so magical.”

  “He is, and it is. But then, so is Nocturne Falls.” And it was getting more magical by the moment.

  Greyson cleared his throat. “Birdie, Jayne bought something at Francine Gresham’s estate sale this morning and would like a chance to talk to Francine about it. We thought you might be able to make that happen.”

  Birdie sat back down. “I do know Francine, but she’s not much
on visitors these days.”

  “It’s sort of a royal emergency,” I lied.

  Birdie’s brows shot up. “Oh?”

  I thought fast as I leaned in closer. “I think something I picked up at her sale, a fancy box she used to own, has somehow put a spell on my cat allowing him to talk. Of course, my sweet little Spider would never share official North Pole information, but he’s overheard conversations between my father, Jack Frost, and me. I’d hate to think what might happen if word got out about Spider. Someone might kidnap him and force him to reveal all.” I shook my head. “Can you imagine if one of my uncle Kris’s proprietary secrets got out? It could ruin Christmas!”

  Birdie had been nodding along as I’d unraveled that tangled thread. She clucked her tongue. “That would be awful. Just awful. I’ll see what I can do about taking you to visit Francine.”

  “Thank you.” Who said I couldn’t act?

  “Very kind of you, Birdie,” Greyson added.

  She gave us a curious look. “You said you bought the box this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s when your cat suddenly developed the ability to talk?”

  “Right after I got it home and he knocked the top off.”

  “You’re sure it’s related to the box?”

  “I guess. I mean, he started talking immediately after the box fell off the table. Why?”

  She glanced at the phone. “Piper Hodges, her family owns the local newspaper, the Tombstone, got out of the shower at the gym to find that she’d turned blue.”

  “Blue?” Greyson repeated.

  Birdie nodded. “As Princess Jayne’s hair. Oh! I was supposed to send a deputy over there. Hang on.” She snatched up the radio next to her phone. “Deputy Blythe, this is Birdie, come in.”

  The radio crackled, and a female voice answered. “Go ahead, Birdie.”

  “Can you swing by the Tombstone? Piper Hodges turned blue this morning, and her mother wants a deputy to take a report.”

  A few seconds passed before Deputy Blythe responded. “Did you say she turned blue?”

  “I did.”