by Cat Larson
I scrunched the bag closed and set it aside. These were the only things Fernando would eat, so how could I take that away from him? I couldn’t, which meant I had to make some money fast. Weeks were slipping away at an alarming rate, and with each passing Violet-free day, the possibility of returning to Chicago and getting a job there became more of a pipe dream. And what about Fernando? How long could he go with his life uprooted?
“Sorry I’ve been so busy lately,” Sage said. “How’ve you been?”
Well, aside from the obvious, I would’ve killed for some real food and good strong coffee, but I kept that to myself. I didn’t want her to feel bad when she already did so much.
“Hot,” I said. “At least today.”
“Tell me about it.” She lifted her gorgeous strawberry blonde curls off her neck. “What’s up with this weather?”
I shrugged. “I guess Mother Nature is confused.”
Twelve hours earlier it was a wintry wonderland. Now, it was eighty-five and tropical. Talk about crossed signals. The poor trees didn’t know whether to bloom or go dormant. And the still-frozen ground couldn’t absorb the river on top of it; it was a flooded mess out there.
It was late March in Wisconsin—weather fluctuations were par for the course—but come on… this was pretty weird. I woke up this morning thinking I’d time-traveled ahead five months. Imagine going to bed in flannel pajamas and waking up a Shrinky Dink.
“Cute top, by the way.”
Sage looked like an adorable bumblebee with her yellow-and-black striped halter top. Only she could pull off something like that. I glanced down at my own pasty arms that hadn’t seen the light of day in months. How did hers look so sun-kissed?
“Thanks.” She scanned the room. “So, where is the little guy?”
I gestured toward the bedroom. “In there. Guarded.”
“Guarded?”
“Yep.” That morning after I’d leaped (no pun intended) out of bed, realizing I hadn’t caught some life-threatening disease from inhaling dirty snow, but that my soaked-with-sweat body was due to a gargantuan temperature shift, I had a mild panic attack. If I thought I was worried about Misty’s former serpent from Hell before… Now that it was no longer cold out, the vile thing was surely out of hibernation and very, very hungry.
Sage headed to the bedroom and opened the door. “Oh right. The hawks.” She turned, nose wrinkling. “And you’re still using snake-repelling perfume, I smell. But at least you’re confining the stench to one room now.”
“Yeah, I started running low on the clove oil so I’m forced to use it sparingly. But if you have any other suggestions, I’m more than open.”
As long as they were affordable, I didn’t add. Not that you could put a price on my fiancé’s life, but I could only do what I could do.
A few moments later, she came out with Fernando cradled in her hands. Hmm. He never ventured out from under the bed so easily for me.
“He really is adorable,” she said, tickling under his fat chin.
Yeah, yeah. He was adorable, I’d already established that she was adorable, and now they were adorable together.
He was camouflaged to match her shirt like a little sidekick. They could fight crime side by side. The Bumblebee Avengers.
“So, why’ve you been so busy?” I asked, changing the subject before the green-eyed monster got the better of me. I was a witch, yet that hadn’t granted me immunity to petty human emotions. What was the point of that? I should’ve been able to spell them away. If I were a practicing witch, that is. Which I wasn’t.
“I had a ton of exams this week, lots of studying.”
“Why you even have to study is beyond me. You’re already a plant prodigy.”
Sage was getting her plant science degree at the local college. To make it official, I guess. She already could’ve run the entire program and taught all the classes from day one.
“You’re just so cute, aren’t you?”
“What?”
Oh right. She wasn’t speaking to me. She was putting her face so close to his I thought she was going to inhale him.
“Of course, I have to study, silly.” She glanced up at me. “Not every plant is in my jurisdiction, you know.”
I nodded. Yep. I kept forgetting. She could only converse with the local species. The rest of them, she was merely an expert. At least in my eyes. How many people did you know who could talk to plants—and they would talk back?
“How’ve you been since… everything? Any more headaches?”
“Nope. Your healing soup did the trick. Just never make me drink it again, or I’ll have to kill you.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered to Fernando, “Your wife-to-be is such a big baby.” Scratch, scratch. Tickle, tickle. “Yes, she is.”
I stiffened. We hadn’t discussed the entire froggy-fiancé thing since the day after my double knockout. She’d stayed by my side, taking care of me, bullying me into choking down nasty, chunky, green sludge that’d worked surprisingly well at healing my bumpy head. At the time, I’d assumed she was humoring me when I confessed that my frog was actually Fernando. It’d been a week since then. Maybe she still was?
She glared at me. “Isn’t that right?” I chuckled, dragging a Bigfoot Café napkin over my face, clumps of it sticking to my sweaty skin. “You look like you had a run-in with a razor and lost.”
“On my forehead?”
I walked into the bedroom’s tiny adjoining bathroom to douse my head under the sink. She and Fernando followed me. I turned on the cold water full blast and splashed my face.
To be honest, I hadn’t minded how swamped Sage had been because it’d given me more time. I was still in processing mode. It was all too… bizarre. And I’d grown up with the epitome of bizarre in the form of my family, namely, my sister, but at least it was an oddity I knew versus one I didn’t.
But leprechauns and elves and big, hairy creatures? I felt like Dorothy. It was enough to bring my throbbing headache back, but sticking it in the quicksand wouldn’t do me any favors either. I had to exist in a state of denial while not actually denying that I was denying it. Yeah, that sounded like a happy medium I could live with, if only I could make sense of what the heck I was convincing myself to do.
“I can take him off your hands if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay.” Sage stroked his striped back. “You know, you two can still take the leap down the aisle—”
“Ha-ha. Good one.”
“Just place him next to a tux, and he’ll look like he’s wearing one.”
Now, I knew she was messing with me. For starters, up until that point, she’d been nudging me in Griffin’s direction, questioning if Fernando was the right guy for me. She’d never seriously encourage me to hurry up and take the plunge, so it must’ve been a joke. Especially, after that ‘leap’ wisecrack.
However, she wasn’t laughing or even breaking into a smile.
“I got clobbered on the head really hard last week,” I said.
“I know.”
“Twice.”
“I’m aware.”
“I can’t even remember what I all said to you. I’m sure some really crazy things came out of my mouth.”
“Hmm.”
“In fact, the entire St. Patrick’s Day weekend was like a bad trip. I wonder if you were right, after all, and I’d somehow managed to accidentally get into those hallucinogenic leaves you accused me of sniffing.”
“Mmhmm.”
More humoring?
“Oh, hey. Remember that strange ‘tag, you’re it’ phone call last week?”
“Mmhmm,” she repeated, gazing down at my man. Was he making googly eyes back up at her? No, wait. Those were just his regular eyes. They bulged now. Get a grip, Samm.
“Well, whoever it was called again last night when Damon was here. It clicked over to Speaker. And you’re right—I couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female either.”
She looked up. “Why was Damon over?”
“Because Griffin was here…” She smirked. “For a snowball fight. Geez. Anyway, Damon showed up to talk to him and I overheard the conversation, mainly because I was eavesdropping through the door.” She raised an eyebrow. “He said this Penelope girl was missing and wondered if Griffin had any idea where she might’ve gone… or if he knew where Regina lived now, since the two used to be good friends or something.”
“What’d he say?”
“That he didn’t know anything.” She nodded. “So, how well do you know Penelope?”
“Only somewhat. She gives off a sneaky vibe but seems harmless enough. Pretty quiet too so I never really had much of a conversation with her. Sorry to hear she’s missing, though.” Sage sat on the edge of the bed. “Speaking of, Damon’s been looking for her, you know.”
I sat beside her. “I know.” It was obvious we were no longer talking about Penelope.
“This past week he’s stepped up his efforts, questioning anyone and everyone.”
“Good.”
Her eyes widened. “Good? I’m surprised to hear you say that. You told me before you didn’t want the police to find her first.”
“Things change.” Not that I held much faith due to their non-magical cop skills, but that was beside the point.
“But yet they stay the same.”
“Meaning?”
“Are you still sticking with your ‘bad fight’ story?”
“We did have a horrible fight. That’s the honest truth.”
“And you still think Violet’s been gone for nearly three weeks because she’s avoiding you?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, let my shoulders drop. “I… I don’t know anymore.”
She visibly relaxed too. “Oh, thank honeysuckle. Finally. Maybe we can get somewhere now.”
“Again, meaning?”
“At least there’s something you’re not in denial about.”
I wasn’t in denial about anything, especially about my denial. See how easy that was? I had it down pat.
“I’ve been worried sick about her,” Sage said.
“And you don’t think I’ve been too, even a little?”
What did I even think anymore? I knew I was fuming to the gills—how could I not be after the unforgivable stunt she’d pulled—but to leave her shop for so long, letting all her bills rack up? One horse and a spiral horn did not add up to a unicorn here.
“Then what are we going to—”
The front door creaked open and an icy chill swept over me, my sweat droplets freezing to the back of my neck.
“Is it just me or did it suddenly turn really cold in here?” I asked, standing. Had the weather freaked out again?
The three of us took a few steps out of the room and—
“What in the devil is that?”
At the shrill voice, Sage quickly retreated back to the bedroom, cupping Fernando protectively, and I dropped my head. Nope, still a scorcher out there. However, in here…
“We’re closed, Clarisse.”
“The door was unlocked.”
“That’s not an open invitation to barge in. The CLOSED sign is not just hanging there for decoration.”
The last remaining mugwort/herbal security system was now scattered on the ground in a few paltry sprigs, thanks to her. What I needed was to get something more effective. Fernando had already demonstrated he could change colors and shapes—maybe I could commission him to become the shop’s attack frog?
Clarisse sighed dramatically, then she had the nerve to say, “Don’t be so dramatic, Eve.”
“It’s Samm,” I said through clenched teeth.
I’d tried so hard to get everyone here to refer to me by my middle name since I’d adopted it right after moving to Chicago at thirteen, but no luck. So, I’d ended up giving in. As the overused saying goes, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I’d resigned back to Samm, short for Sammara, but Clarisse was the only one who insisted on still calling me Eve. It was disturbing.
The weather-inappropriate, immaculately dressed woman with nary a hair out of place on this hot, humid day craned her neck toward the closed bedroom door. I wondered how she could look so put-together until I remembered she had ice in her veins. It was like having your own personal built-in air conditioning unit.
“Where’d Sage go? I hope she didn’t scurry off on my account. And what in the world was she holding? I shudder to think it was a fr—”
“What are you doing here? I told you before we didn’t have any more of your migraine herbs in stock.”
Clarisse claimed that Violet’s special tea was the only thing that helped her terrible headaches. According to my mom, the town didn’t want her here, and it was letting her know. If she just left, so would her migraines.
“Oh no.” Click click click. She sashayed over to the stationery on her red skyscraper heels while I crossed both my arms and my flip-flopped feet, leaning against the counter. “I’m here for invitations.”
“We’re closed,” I repeated. “Nothing’s for sale at the moment.”
“But these are absolutely exquisite.” She held up a package of rose gold fancy-schmancy invites. “I simply must have them for my party next weekend.”
“Isn’t it a little late to send them out? You’re better off just calling everyone. Or emailing.”
She looked horrified. Who’d want to go to her party anyway? As far as I knew, she didn’t have any friends in town.
“An elegant gala requires an equally elegant invitation.”
I shook my head. Whatever. She glided around the place like she was expecting a red carpet to materialize right in front of her.
“You’re on the guest list, of course.”
“Me? Whatever for?” Despite her previous claim, we were not the “same kind who needed to stick together.”
“Aren’t you even the least bit curious to see inside my beautiful home?”
Obscenely showy mansion was more accurate. But that was what happened when you were the daughter-aged widow of a man with a heart of gold and an estate to match.
“You did ask to come in the last time you stopped by.”
I clenched my jaw. “That was a misunderstanding.”
“Well, at any rate, I hope you’ll attend. Us kind need—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t even start. You know what? Just take the invitations and go. I’ll have Violet settle up with you when she gets back.”
“Can I expect you, then?” She smiled. “I can even give you your formal invite now.”
“No, thanks. I’ll pass.”
Her mouth grew tight as if she were sucking on a lemon. “I’d advise you to reconsider. I wouldn’t want you to end up regretting it.”
“Is that a threat?”
She put her hand on her chest. “You wound me, Eve.” And you’re creeping me out, Clarisse, even more than usual. “I merely meant I wouldn’t want you wishing you’d chosen a different outcome.”
“Yeah, okay. Look, I gave you the invitations, and I did not need to do that. So, please return the favor and leave now. I was in the middle of something important when you arrived, and I’d like to get back to it.”
“Of course. It was very generous of you, and I’d never overstay my welcome.” She click-clacked toward the door. “This is the perfect time for a little celebration, don’t you think? Hearing about that poor girl makes you realize how short and precious life is. It’s crucial to make the most of it while you still have it.”
I cocked my head. “If you’re talking about Penelope, I’m sure she’ll be found soon.”
“Didn’t you hear? She’s already been found. Dead.”
Chapter Three
I drop-kicked the door open and stormed into Bigfoot Bay police station.
In my head.
In actuality, I nudged it open and entered quietly, part of me still in a daze over Clarisse’s news. The other part was quite peeved that I had to hear it from her first.
Officer Mike Hansen imme
diately jumped up upon seeing me. “Samm! What can I do for you?”
Damon was also there, pacing the floor with a phone glued to his ear. He barely gave me an acknowledgment before turning his back. Talk about a cold shoulder. What if I were there for a true emergency?
“What can you tell me about that girl who… Penelope. What happened?”
I switched my purse to the other side to air myself out then grabbed the latest edition of the Bigfoot Bay Gazette off the counter to fan myself with. It was still hot out but no longer sunny. The skies had darkened a little more with each step to the station, but the upcoming storm only increased the humidity. I was dripping buckets here.
“Why are you asking about Penelope?” Damon asked, popping up behind Mike and suddenly joining the conversation. The phone was plastered to his chest.
With Damon’s scowl and Mike’s baby face, it was like looking at a piece of tough steer jerky and a sweet apple dumpling, respectively.
“Because—”
“Hold on, Samm. Don’t say anything else.” Damon reattached the phone to his head and clomped away. Geesh. Why even bother asking me, then?
Mike thumbed in his direction. “Mrs. Zweifler. Calls at least once a day with one ‘problem’ or another. Nice lady but not the sharpest dart on the board, if you know what I mean.” He elbowed me lightly.
“Yes, Mike. I know what you mean.”
“Can I offer you anything cool to drink? Water, soda, iced tea?”
“I appreciate that, but no thank you.”
“That’s a mighty pretty dress you’re wearing today.” His cheeks grew plumper. “The color really brings out your eyes.”
“Um… it’s Violet’s dress, but that’s kind of you to say.”
I drummed my fingers on the back of a chair, not quite knowing how to respond further. Mike used to have a crush on me back in the day, and I often got the feeling that old habits died hard. He knew I was engaged and never crossed any lines, but being that he was also one of the nicest people in town, sometimes that combination was enough to make my teeth ache whenever I came around him.
