Bedtimes and Broomsticks

by Amanda A. Allen

  But not being able to bite someone—she bet that was something vampires didn’t talk about or admit to. Maybe she had been too light. How would she feel if she went to the Mystic Cove grove or to the Oaken Grove and reached out magically and wasn’t embraced?

  “Life is hard,” she told him honestly. “For druids. For vampires. For witches. Having extra gifts and talents doesn’t make our lives easier.”

  “That’s for sure,” he said. And they walked in quiet as they passed the shops on 2nd Street. Instead of following 2nd Street parallel to Arbor Avenue, Scarlett headed towards the residential houses, wandering past Old Mrs. Lovejoy’s house where her same old rocker still sat on the porch. And there, three houses down was Brad’s mom’s house. An oversized truck was parked in the drive and the grass was overgrown. The same curtains Scarlett vaguely remembered from her childhood covered the windows, keeping the light out.

  “Do you know if he spends a lot of time here?”

  Gus glanced the house over, noting the truck, and then said, “Wouldn’t you if you were married to Kelly?”

  “Goodness, yes,” Scarlett said fervently.

  He waited until she was ready to leave, and they walked up several more blocks and then down a few blocks until they reached his street.

  “I feel like I’m walking back into our childhood,” she said, as they headed down the street with it’s large, purple-leaved trees. The trees were japanese maples, and they were old friends. By the stars, how she loved these old things. “Remember when we used to ride our bikes down this street?”

  “Or sneak out of my room, down the trellis, and through the backyard until we reached the edge of town.”

  “To build a fire and make many-flavored s’mores.”

  “Like s’mores are so clever if you use a peanut butter cup instead of a chocolate bar.”

  “They need something with caramel. You know this. Anything else is sacrilege.”

  “You have a sweet fang, Gussy,” she told him. Laughing in the sheer joy of repeating an argument they’d had a thousand times but not in the last decade. “I’ve missed you.”

  She affectionally bumped his side as they walked down the street, and he reached up to grab her the leaf of her favorite tree, tucking it into her mom bun, knowing she’d love the touch of an old friend, the scent of an old friend.

  “Me too,” he said as he let his finger caress her chin before he dropped his hand. There was a look in his eyes she recognized, and it wasn’t what she could handle right now, so she glanced away privately admitted that Henna might be more right than Scarlett would like.

  “Thank you for telling me about Lacey,” Scarlett said.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you keep your girls safe,” he said, and she couldn’t help but glance over and examine his face. He was in earnest, and she couldn’t feel more grateful.

  “You’re a good man Augustus,” she said.

  Chapter 16

  Scarlett noticed Abby heading into the alley and wondered what she was up to? Maybe she was the one leaving stuff at the little altar to Lacey. Maybe it was Abby who was crying pointed tears over that picture of Lacey’s headshot that she’d used to run for mayor. Scarlett wanted to know…but she didn’t want to interrupt. Her interactions with Abby had been awkward and stilted.

  “Henna,” Scarlett called, “I’ll be back.”

  Scarlett headed out of the bakery kitchen, up the stairs to her apartment and then to the 3rd floor where Gus had piled all of her boxes while they worked. She ran over to the window which was too grimy to look out and struggled to shove it up.

  Abby’s head was bobbing along the alley still, and Scarlett couldn’t see much beyond the top of her head since Abby was blocked by the taller trees on that side of the garden. But…as she stepped past the point where the little twiggy fence was low, and the trees switched to flowers someone rose and turned.

  It took Scarlett a moment to realize that it was Kelly who was talking with Abby. Given their body language, it wasn’t a happy little conversation. As Scarlett looked on, Kelly took a staggered step back, hand to her throat. What were they doing? Arguing over who was the real best friend?

  Kelly recovered from her step back and pressed forward against Abby, but to Scarlett’s shock, Abby stood firm. Whatever she was hissing at Kelly seemed to be having a real effect. There was almost a pleading movement from Kelly and then Abby said something that was followed by what looked like a mean laugh. Goodness, what Scarlett wouldn’t give to hear what they were saying. Maybe Abby had seen Brad lingering around the little shrine to Lacey and was trying to goad Kelly into believing there was something there that wasn’t. Or maybe there was something between Lacey and Brad besides a high school romance.

  “Scarlett…” Henna called up the stairs, probably using some sort of wind magic to get the sound to Scarlett. “Lex is here.”

  That gave Scarlett an idea, and she pushed the window open and called to the wind to hear Abby and Kelly's conversation.

  “I won't do it," one of them hissed.

  The other said, "You will if you know what's good for you."

  At which point, Kelly spun and stalked off following the path that Brad had taken the night before and Abby stood there, hands on hips, watching Kelly go.

  Which had said what? And what did it mean? Scarlett shook her head and walked down the stairs, kicking herself for not sneaking into the garden to see what was going on, or using wind magic earlier. What an opportunity lost.

  Scarlett made her way into the bakery. They’d been open for a while and the morning rush had gone. Only old Mrs. Lovejoy was in the bakery, she was slowly sipping a cup of coffee and her razor sharp eyes were on everyone who passed by. Scarlett needed to remember to catch up with that old broad. Mrs. Lovejoy probably knew everything that happened in this town or had a good reason to guess given the way she lingered around. She was as nosy as those two old coots sitting on the bench across the way.

  Lex was sitting at the small back table. He had a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and two of the bagels she’d made that morning.

  She scowled at him, and he gave her a cheeky grin. She’d stopped thinking of him as much of a suspect after the previous evening, and she didn’t want to be stupid. If he were the killer—that was where he’d want her.

  “Lex,” she said after grabbing her own coffee. She knew she needed to eat given the way her stomach felt after all that caffeine, but the thought of eating also made her feel sick. She stared at the food behind the glass for a minute and then shrugged and left with nothing.

  “It’s always concerning to see bakers eschew their own wares,” Lex said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he was deliberately sounding like a know-it-all a-hole. She suspected he was given the twinkle in his eye. She paused for a moment—she was so tired that she was nearly staggering, and her mind was definitely not her own. Because the man was under her skin and making her take note, yet again, of his pretty eyes, the line of his jaw, the width of his shoulders, and the way his t-shirt clung to what clearly was a magnificent chest.

  She dropped herself into the seat in front of him, took a sip of coffee, scowled at the way it felt when it hit her acidic stomach and shoved the cup away.

  “Ok,” he said, glancing at her cup, “My concerns that I’ve been poisoned have escalated.”

  “Given that, of the two of us, I’m the one with the alibi maybe you should stop worrying your pretty little head.”

  He snorted in appreciation and then said, “You need rest.”

  “Who can sleep?”

  “What’s gone wrong?”

  She wanted to tell him. How Harper had called and said that Luna had asked for a cinnamon roll like the one they’d had just outside of Kansas City. It was a memory that had once been stolen meaning the memory hex was fading. Also meaning that the need to find the killer was escalating. Scarlett wasn’t even sure that Luna would be safe in another town. She would do whateve
r was necessary to protect her daughters. Whatever. It. Took.

  “Nothing,” she lied. She could read him well enough to see that he didn’t believe her at all.

  “I’d like to be on your side,” he said.

  She’d like that too if she were being honest with herself. There was something very compelling about it. But she didn’t trust him. Not as a warlock. Not as a man. Not as someone who was supposedly interested in her, and definitely not as a fellow investigator. She couldn’t afford to.

  “Tell me about dating Lacey,” she told him. “And tell me why I can trust you.”

  Lex looked her over and then said, “You really do look like the walking dead.”

  “I doubt I’ll sleep well until this is over, so prepare yourself. It’s gonna get worse.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Tell me why I can trust you.”

  He considered for a while and then said, “I need to be able to tell you something in confidence.”

  “Because the gossiping, nosy blood of Mystic Cove runs in my veins doesn’t mean you can’t trust me.”

  He snorted and then said, “Really.”

  “Fine,” Scarlett said. “As long as whatever you have to say has nothing to do with the murder, I won’t breathe a word of it.”

  “I’m a PI. I’m looking for someone who committed a crime,” Lex said.

  Scarlett raised her brows, showing every bit of her doubt. Anyone could say that stuff.

  “Check out www.lexwarderpi.com.”

  Scarlett’s face must have shown her continued doubt. Anyone could throw up a website, and he’d had days to come up with his story and a website.

  “If you google me, you’ll find articles on newspapers. It’s real, Scarlett. I’m kind of surprised you haven’t googled me yet.”

  Scarlett felt like an idiot. She hadn’t even thought of it, but you wouldn’t be able to google anyone in Mystic Cove. They were all small town people. Why would she have thought of it?

  “Please don’t say anything,” Lex said. “I’m going to lose my quarry. I know I’m closing in on them. If it gets out I’m a PI, they’re gonna run.”

  Scarlett took a deep breath and then said, “So, say I believe you. Were you dating Lacey?”

  “She was good cover,” he said it simply.

  Scarlett thought for a while and then said, “You liked her.”

  “She could be funny. She knew the town. Knew stories about people.”

  Scarlett leaned back and then reached over, taking a piece of his bagel before she said, “Did Lacey know you were using her, or were you really interested?”

  Lex glanced away and then said, “I was semi-interested. I didn’t plan on staying in Mystic Cove. I have a life in Boston, but this town…gets under your skin. I’d been considering maybe buying the place I’m renting. Spending weekends here.”

  “It’s the air here,” Scarlett told him. “The groves change everything.”

  “And the not-pretending. Here I can be a warlock. Not just a PI.”

  Scarlett cleared her throat and then said, “You were thinking of taking things a step further with her, weren’t you?”

  Lex shrugged. Scarlett took that as a yes, but a yes that he didn’t want to admit to. She didn’t blame him. She hadn’t been very secretive about how much she disliked Lacey. If he was mourning her, Scarlett could see not wanting to have the wound prodded. And maybe, seeing how people reacted to Lacey’s death, he was realizing that he’d been so busy investigating everyone else, he had missed the act that Lacey had put up.

  “Where were you?”

  “I’ve narrowed down my possible subjects to five more people. I was trailing my likeliest target to see if I could trap them into revealing who they really are.”

  Scarlett didn’t bother to ask him who he suspected. She guessed he wasn’t going to tell her, and for right now, she didn’t care. If he’d stop being so secretive, she and Henna could probably tell him who he was looking for in less than 10 minutes. The idiot. But that was an argument for another day.

  “Ok,” Scarlett said, rising.

  “Tell me what you know,” he said. “That fool sheriff had me into his office again today. He’s going to blow my cover and ruin my investigation. I’ve spent years on this one, Scarlett. And the family who hired me deserves resolution.”

  She looked back at him and realized that—for the first time—she believed everything he was saying. But, her daughter was on the line. She might decide to trust him, but not without looking it all up and thinking it over.

  “Are you working tonight?”

  He shook his head and said, “I can give this some more time. I need to wrap up before my quarry takes off and I lose them for a few more years.”

  Scarlett nodded once and then said, “Come over later this evening. I’ll be home. I need to gather my thoughts and maybe we can talk about what’s going on. I need time to verify what you said.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “There’s no room for even a shade of doubt when we’re talking about my daughter. Luna is four. She’s my baby, and they're my everything. I’m a careful mom, Lex. I’ve already caused them enough pain.”

  “It isn’t your fault that your husband left, Scarlett.”

  “Isn’t it? And even if it’s not. It’s my fault he’s their dad.”

  “They wouldn’t exist without him,” Lex said almost gently.

  And Scarlett knew it was true, but a part of her wondered—what if she’d stayed in Mystic Cove and loved someone else. Would they still be her daughters—but with a better dad? Someone who valued their gifts and didn’t care so much about being different?

  “Sure,” she said, and went back to the kitchen to pound her frustration out by kneading some more dough.

  * * * * *

  “Scarlett,” Henna said sharply.

  Scarlett looked up from where she was moving cookies from the window to the counter. They were closing up after having sold out of most of their stock. The lunch rush was over, the last minute shoppers seemed to have left, and the front door was only open for those who were looking to grab whatever was left at half price. They’d be locking up in a few more minutes.

  There was a bone-thin man in the bakery with stringy hair and dark circles under his eyes. He was dirty and looked a little sick. He was probably here hoping for something free, and given how thin he was, Scarlett was willing to hand him a bag of cookies to beef him up.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Harper,” he said, scratching his nose the back of his hand and not quite meeting Scarlett’s gaze. “She’s not in her shop again and the girl said to ask over here.”

  “Who are you?” Scarlett’s willingness to feed him had dropped dramatically. She didn’t want to be mean, but she was nearly as protective of Harper as of the girls.

  “A friend.”

  Scarlett examined him, all of her warning signals flying. He looked like Harper’s usual cup of troubled tea.

  “Why don’t you call her then?”

  He sniffled and then said, “She’s not answering me. I need to… I need…”

  Scarlett’s brows rose and he flushed.

  “Look, just tell me where she is,” he stepped towards Scarlett, a little threatening and Scarlett’s expression must have paused him.

  Probably because she was absolutely willing to rid herself of all of her anger on this poor hapless idiot.

  “Sure,” Scarlett said. “Tell me who you are.”

  He shuffled forward, but she didn’t move. She glanced him up and down, her distaste showing on her face.

  “Where is she?”

  “Are you an idiot?” she asked him. “She’s not in her shop…she’s not answering her phone…she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “I need to talk to her. We…I…I…”

  Scarlett’s eyes narrowed and she asked silkily, “Are you the reason she has a bandaged wrist?”

  His flush was answer
enough.

  “She’s a suspect in the Lacey Monroe murder because of that.”

  He glanced away and Scarlett guessed that Harper wouldn’t be able to count on him to tell the sheriff why her blood was at the scene.

  “Who are you?”

  “Tell her Jed stopped by,” he said.

  “Jeddie?” Scarlett immediately asked, knowing that name—knowing the stories. The history of Harper in foster care before she’d been adopted. “Her foster brother?”

  He flushed and Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. Harper had ended up in juvie because of hanging out with this kid. She’d been kicked out of her last foster home from all of that. It was only because Harper had met a witch in juvie that Scarlett’s mom, Maye, had learned about the little half-druid, half-witch child in foster care who was all unknowing of what she was. Maye had sought Harper out and adopted her, but Harper’s memories of Jeddie weren’t the positive ones.

  “You stay away from my sister,” Scarlett told him. “You stay away from her, and if I hear that you hurt her again, I will show you what I'm capable of.”

  She went at him, walking towards him, and forcing him to back up or face off. He shuffled back, muttering a curse word, and she shoved him out the door, making him stumble over the door jamb.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “You stupid—”

  “You stay away from my sister. You keep away from her, or I’ll make you pay.”

  “What are you gonna do, bi—”

  Scarlett rushed him, shoving him again, and leaning in close to say, softly, threateningly, “You don’t want to know. But if you think that I will let anyone hurt my little sister, you’re wrong.”

  “She was my sister first,” he said.

  “She’s my sister now, though, and you’re a nasty piece of trash from her past.”

  His fists clenched, and she thought they might actually face off—he’d have to find out what a druid is capable of, non-magic person or no.

  But they had an audience and Lex softly said, “Careful.”

  Jeddie glanced over at Lex, froze, and backed away from Scarlett.