Bedtimes and Broomsticks

by Amanda A. Allen

  “You’re the druid who shamed Wally into deciding I was the murderer.”

  Scarlett paused meeting those humor-filled, but slightly irritated eyes, and then shook her head.

  “Noooo….that wasn’t me. Since I didn’t know you existed. Hard though that may be for you to believe. I’m guessing, instead, that you passed too close by and he didn’t have to trot on over to wherever you were. It’s not my problem you made yourself convenient.”

  She looked him up and down and knew there must be some surface reason that Wally had turned his gaze on this stranger. She wanted to know what it was.

  “Maybe you could stop sending him my way?” He suggested it with a raise of the brow, a charming little side smile, and yet another flex of those biceps.

  Honestly, she thought, he was as determined a flirt as a Jane Austen villain.

  “I don’t even know who you are. That was all Wally,” Scarlett said, “But I’d really prefer you were the murderer since I don’t know or like you.”

  He seemed almost taken aback at her bluntness. But a little of the too-knowing flirting faded from his eyes and…was that actual interest?

  “But it wasn’t me who did it.” He gave her the same charming, trust-me smile that should send every woman with an ounce of sense to flight. Did that crap really work for him?

  “There must be some reason Wally focused on you. What is it?”

  She examined him again noted the way his posture, the angle of his glances, the set to his shoulders showed how he knew he was handsome. Lex must know that he’s a big fish in a very small pond. And just how would have Lacey have seen him? At first, all she’d have cared was that he picked her before anyone else. That way she had the prize of dating him, and then either keeping him or dumping him. And really, regardless of how it went down, she’d have made it seem that he wasn’t good enough for her. A memory hit her.

  “Oh. My. Goodness. You’re juice-fast, dirty-thoughts Lex.” She laughed and stepped back for a better look. This was the guy that Lacey had told Kelly she was going to have to juice fast for the upcoming wedding. “Yep. I can see it. Lacey had plans for you, my little flower.”

  He blinked expression fading from charming to expressionless. “Are you crazy?”

  “So you dated Lacey, obviously.”

  “Why is that obvious?”

  “She was lovely. She was juice-fasting for someone. And you’re clearly used to gathering up a little harem. You two are a perfect match in self-obsessed heaven.”

  “She wasn’t really my style,” he said. But his eyes slid sideways, just a bit. Scarlett doubted anyone else would have noticed, but she was looking for it, and she didn’t believe him.

  Scarlett rolled her eyes—once again—and obviously to make his eye twitch as she said, “Lacey was gorgeous.”

  “Are you assuming that I am lead around by my…”

  “I don’t really care what motivates you,” Scarlett said, cutting him off. “What do you want? Why did you hunt me up?”

  He cleared his throat and then tried for charming again. “I’m a private investigator. I’m working around here. I need Wally’s case to be solved before he ruins mine. I thought we could…work together.”

  Scarlett blinked, digesting the most entirely unexpected statement she’d ever heard.

  “You say you’re a P.I. Why would you need me?”

  She had little doubt that he dated Lacey which meant he was lying. Did he really think she’d work with him just because he was pretty? Though that wasn’t the right word. He was mouth-drying, eye-catching, hair-raising sexy.

  How many dates had he been on with Lacey? How serious had it been on his side? Was he really gearing up to ask Lacey to marry him? If so, maybe Lacey had found something about him—some dirty P.I. secret that was worth killing over? Something that those large wrestler hands, those strong biceps were so perfectly made for? Stop it, Scarlett, she thought. Stop focusing on his sexiness and focus on the murder. The murder you idiot druid.

  He cleared his throat and then tried and failed to look pathetic and charming. “You’re well-known around here. I’m a stranger.”

  She grinned at him immediately understanding his concerns, and he wasn’t wrong. Mabel at the diner wasn’t going to talk to him. Henna wouldn’t talk to him. Harper would probably set him on fire. He was on the high list of everyone’s suspects because he hadn’t gone to school around here. Because Mabel couldn’t remember his grandmother’s face because no one had seen him as a child, because his family wasn’t related to half the town.

  Everyone in Mystic Cove, Scarlett included, would prefer for the killer to be him. Him rather than Scarlett who they remembered with pigtails in kindergarten. Him rather than Harper who they watched struggle and struggle after her adoption. Him rather than Gus or Wally or Henna or whoever Wally was going to harass next. But maybe there wouldn’t be someone next—maybe Wally would focus on Lex—the stranger P.I.

  Which was all fine and good except that Scarlett needed to find the real killer—eventually that memory hex was going to wear off of Luna and then she would be at risk—if she wasn’t already. And Scarlett had no idea if this guy was the killer, but she knew she wasn’t going to hope he was and look away. She didn’t care whoever it was—they were going to pay.

  “Did you date Lacey?”

  Lex considered for a moment, rubbing that scruffy jaw, and then said, “Yes.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “Will you believe me if I say no?”

  “No,” Scarlett said, sniffing. “You’re right. You need me, but I don’t need you.”

  “You think you can dabble in investigating and find out who killed her?” He’d set aside charming and sexy and gone straight for mockery.

  Scarlett grinned and winked and said, “I don’t need to dabble in investigating, juice-fast boy. I need to put on my gossip monger shoes and put the pieces together. Whoever had a reason to kill Lacey, there’s someone that knows something about it. Lot of someones probably know things that they don’t realize. And because they like me, and my mom, and my sister, and my aunts and they know I didn’t do it, they’ll tell me.”

  “Why are you so sure they trust you?”

  She could see what he was doing, and she wasn’t impressed. He’d set aside charming for casting doubt on herself. She shook her head—she was a lot of things. But she wasn’t stupid, and she had confidence both in herself and her people. One of them had killed Lacey, but the rest of them were on Scarlett’s side.

  She sniffed and grinned at him. “The same reason you are. The same reason you want my help. They’ve known me since I was in diapers. I have an alibi. Where were you when she was dying?”

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Gus told Wally when it happened and Wally told you.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “Oh, Wally’s an idiot. But even he knows to ask that one. Besides Gus would have made sure that it was asked.” She raised a brow at him and waited.

  “Why would I tell you?”

  “Because you still think you can charm your way into getting me to help you or tell you what I find out.”

  “You don’t want to throw away my help,” he shot back. He crossed those arms of his over that chest of his and made her mouth turn into a barren wasteland of wanting to touch him to see if he was as hard as he looked. “You might be able to gossip with the best of them, but I am an investigator. And they say your daughter is on the line. You shouldn't throw away good help.”

  Scarlett’s head tilted and she stepped back to him, right into his personal space, and said, “I don’t need a circle or a grove to gather the vines of that ivy over there and make you wish I hadn’t used them.”

  “Woah,” he said, taking a step back.

  “Never threaten someone’s little girl if you don’t want to see the lioness come out.”

  “I wasn’t threatening her,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

  He too
k another step back and though Scarlett was sure that he wasn’t afraid of her, he didn’t want to tangle with her either. He’d never get a single answer out of anyone in Mystic Cove if he did. She bet he’d noticed how Henna was looking at them out of the bakery window and Mrs. Lovejoy was watching with her teacup paused, eyes wide, as Scarlett stepped closer and closer.

  He had to walk a very careful line to prevent himself from being the town villain with this little confrontation.

  “I need you a lot less than you need me,” she told him. “And you’ve already lied to me a few times, so I’m not that interested in what it is you think you have to offer.”

  He frowned and started to answer, but he was cut off.

  “Scar, you ok?”

  Both Scarlett and Lex turned as Gus ambled up.

  “Oh, it’s not me who needs to worry,” Scarlett said. She had no doubt that both men could see the wicked, threatening, tilt to her smile.

  Lex asked, “So the pretty vampire is your preference then? You’ll let him help you? I heard about him and Lacey. Not so sure he’s trustworthy.”

  “Did you find out why he’s here?” Gus stepped up to Scarlett, and his vampire possessiveness seemed to flow towards her and she shot him an irritated glance. “He’s been lingering for a while, but never explaining himself.”

  “Can’t I travel for my work and visit different parts of the country.”

  “No,” Scarlett answered, glancing him over and said, “Mystic Cove, Massachusetts brings antiquers, druids and others like us, retired couples, and families getting away for the weekend. People like you go to Vegas or somewhere else with bikinis and too many sequins.”

  “You don’t have a bikini?”

  “What I wear to the beach is none of your business, and you are far less charming that you think.”

  Gus snorted, and Scarlett wanted to turn and punch him on the arm. He was enjoying her pushing Lex away far too much which was as irritating as Lex’s behavior.

  “I really do want to find the murderer,” Lex said for once sounding like he might be sincere. But then again, he could be upping his acting level. “Lacey didn’t deserve to die, and your kid doesn’t deserve to be in danger.”

  Scarlett twirled, eyeing him, waiting to see if he had anything else to say, anything else that might be real.

  “Lacey was fun,” he said.

  “Until she turns on you,” Gus interjected.

  “But she hadn’t turned on me, and I did like her. But let me be clear, Scarlett Oaken—I am of no danger to your child.”

  Scarlett paused when Lex pulled out her full name. He said it with power, and like many true names—it called to the essence of her druid self. Of course, her true name was many more names than that, but he’d used what power he could and he used it in a way that few would if they were lying.

  “That’s a nice try,” she told him. “But there is no scenario wherein I trust you and put my daughter at risk. If you didn’t kill Lacey, you don’t have anything to worry about from me.”

  “And if you decide I did?”

  “A druid alone isn’t that scary. A druidic circle—we can be terrifying.”

  “Druids are the least terrifying beings of our kind.”

  “Come after one of our babies and test that theory,” she told him sincerely. And perhaps, for a moment, the capacity of what Scarlett would do for her daughters showed on her face.

  “Wally is going to focus on me,” Lex started.

  “You’re the likeliest subject,” Gus said, shrugging. He clearly had no sympathy for Lex and the possible murder charge.

  “Listen, pretty vampire,” Lex started, but Scarlett stepped between them and snapped, “Enough!”

  “Where were you when Lacey died?” Scarlett’s green eyes met Lex’s blue ones and he shook his head.

  Gus snorted again, but Scarlett’s hand was still on his chest, holding him back.

  “Listen,” Scarlett said, “Saying you’re trustworthy isn’t enough. Tell me where you were, and what you were doing. And we’ll talk.”

  Lex shrugged and stepped back once again, and this time when Scarlett turned away, he let her go.

  Chapter 9

  Lex came into the bakery, pausing in the doorway, and taking in the tables with one glance. Taking them in and rejecting them to cross over to the counter where he didn’t bother with the “order here” area and instead leaned to watch Scarlett without a word.

  He was flexing, and Scarlett was pretty sure it was deliberate. Did he do it because he knew it made her a little weak in the knees or did he do it automatically with every woman who might notice him? She had wondered before, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, if he was really that big of a self-absorbed jerk. The druidic way demanded to see him with the most positive light, but she’d been burned badly, and he provoked her senses in a way that she wasn’t ready to handle.

  “I’ve been hearing stories about some brown sugary cinnamon rolls,” he said, still not going to the ‘Order Here’ counter. “Quick feed me before Wally hunts me up again.”

  “That’s too bad,” Scarlett said, tossing him a dirty look and wondering if she were being a super witch. “As we’re out. We have cream cheese cinnamon rolls.”

  His eyes narrowed on her and he said, “When will you have them again? You making anymore today?”

  She grinned and shrugged, “We close in 45 minutes.”

  His gaze fixed on hers and then said, “So that’s a no?”

  “You want a specific item? You’ll need to get here early, Warder.”

  “I’d like to talk to you some more,” he said. He gave her that charming grin that said he expected her to somehow stop cleaning up the kitchen and wait on his conversation. The look she gave him said exactly what she thought of that.

  The truth was Harper was bringing Scarlett’s daughters in, and she wanted to spend the afternoon with them. She wanted to hear their stories, and she wanted to feel their hands in hers. She wanted to see their eyes light up as they saw her, and not worry about the murder for a couple of hours.

  “I have a life outside of baking and you, ma petite fleur,” she told him, deliberately ignoring the way his t-shirt clung.

  “Did you just infantilize me?” He seemed utterly baffled which spiked the naughtiest part of her sense of humor and her grin might have been wicked.

  “Take it how you’d like, sweet baby,” she said dumping bleach into her mop bucket and starting on the floors. “But I’m betting you’re the kind of fella to call women things like that.”

  He didn’t argue but a tinge of that charming confidence faded from his too-attractive face. The result, however, was that she thought she might be talking to the real Lex. Especially when he laughed, and it rolled out like thunder. He seemed almost as surprised by it as she was, but his only reply was the idle question, “Is this how Henna would like you to treat customers?”

  “I signed purchase paperwork from her today,” Scarlett lied. She and Henna had agreed to wait until things were resolved with Luna’s safety—to see if Scarlett was going to have to run with her daughters. If Scarlett did have to run, she was going to make sure the murderer believed that they were sticking around and still waiting for a chance that would never come.

  She watched Lex take in that piece of information, but her gaze was on Becca Lovejoy who had come through the bakery door. Old Mrs. Lovejoy was one of the biggest gossips in Mystic Cove. The whole town would know within an hour of Becca telling her grandmother.

  “You did?” Becca asked, and then went through the opening to the kitchen and hugged Scarlett. She was too stiff for the hug, but it had been so unexpected that Scarlett stumbled mentally before she reflexively pat Becca on the back.

  Becca was chipper as she said, “I heard your daughters were with you. Can I meet them?”

  “They’ll be here soon,” Scarlett replied, suspicion instantly aroused—why was an old schoolmate so interested? She and Becca hadn’t really been friend
s. If anything they’d been friendly acquaintances. Then Scarlett caught the amused look on Lex’s face as she stumbled through her reactions to Becca. She tried to silently order him to leave, but how he was standing—leaning against the counter, crossing his arms and one foot over the other said he was staying right there.

  She scowled at him and then saw Becca catch the interaction. Scarlett’s eye twitched. Tomorrow was chicken fried steak day at the diner, and she had no doubt that they’d be discussing ‘Scarlett and Lex’ by then.

  “You look amazing,” Scarlett told Becca, trying for chipper and failing miserably. But Scarlett found the perky tone of voice when she said, “Let’s fix that. Would you like a cookie? How about a sandwich? Something with bacon to ruin that what? Runner’s body?”

  “I’m a huge fan of kickboxing,” Becca said. “It gets out all of my aggression.”

  Scarlett snorted. The look Becca gave Lex said she’d like to get her aggression out in other ways. Scarlett wished Becca luck. She’d certainly grown up with every man left in town who was still single. The chance of something different? Scarlett didn’t blame Becca one bit for the interest.

  “I was hoping you’d still have lunch,” Becca said perkily, rounding the corner and grabbing two stools. She slid one over to Lex and brought hers next to him.

  Clever girl, Scarlett thought, as Becca smoothly trapped Lex next to her. The look in Becca’s gaze said she was interested in Lex. To Scarlett’s surprise, he didn’t seem to reciprocate. Maybe he really did care for Lacey. Maybe he was mourning her. But then Scarlett remembered how he’d looked her up and down and thought that either Becca wasn’t his style or he didn’t want to alienate Scarlett by pursuing Becca. Maybe he was hoping to catch Scarlett’s interest to get her to work for him in his little investigation.

  “So, Lex,” Scarlett said, not bothering to look up from Becca’s sandwich, “What do you do?”

  The mean part of Scarlett layered the mayo, cheese, bacon, and avocado on thick and generous. If she could have, Scarlett would have dipped the sandwich in batter and deep-fried it. It was entirely unfair that she felt so dumpy next to Becca.