by Tegan Maher
“What are you up to, Skeet?” I asked. “Did I schedule somethin’ with you and forget?” He came out a couple times a year and serviced the four-wheelers and tractor for me.
“Nah, I told Hunter I’d come out and go over some expense reports with him that he found in Barbie Lee’s files. He thinks they sound high. I was servicin’ Harry and Stella’s tractor and told him I’d just meet him here since I was right down the road. Then I got here and got wrangled into playing a game of chess.” He turned to Max. “Speakin’ of, still waitin’ on your next brilliant move.”
Max grumbled but pushed one of his knights. “There. And you’re all troglodytes. No respect for the civility of this game at all. Yapping and carousing while a man’s trying to think.”
I laughed. That was a sure sign he was losing. The worse it was, the freer he was with the insults.
“I haven’t seen Skeet havin’ any problems blockin’ out the distractions,” Gabi said, giving the swing a shove with her foot. Max muttered a few words that weren’t repeatable in polite company and shot her a death glare from beneath his long, silky lashes.
Anna Mae took her leave, waving as she pulled out, and she’d barely rounded the driveway when Hunter’s truck came rumbling around the curve.
“Perfect timing,” Skeeter said, then stepped forward and made his move. “Checkmate.”
Max stomped off the porch, casting evil glares over his shoulder.
“Don’t be a poor loser,” Skeet called after him. “You’ll get me next time! Oh, wait—that’s what you said last time!”
If looks could kill, Skeeter would have turned to stone where he stood.
Hunter stepped out of his truck just as Max stormed past it.
“What’s up with him?” he asked, striding to the porch. When he saw the chess set out, understanding crossed his face. “Ah. Nevermind.”
Skeeter was the only person in our entire group who regularly skunked Max at chess, and it made his blood boil. Sure, the rest of us won sometimes, but Skeeter rarely lost to him.
“Yeah,” Skeeter smiled. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” Hunter said, passing Skeeter a file folder. “It’s good for him to lose, as much as he gloats when he wins. Here are those reports.”
Skeet flipped it open, then ran his finger down the page before flipping to another. “I don’t even have to look at the rest of this to tell you these prices ain’t right. They’re twice what they should be, and some of ’em just don’t make any sense.” His finger paused. “Like right here, it says forty-nine bucks for a coil for the microwave. Microwaves don’t have coils. There are several bunk charges like that. Also, it don’t take six hours of labor to charge an AC unit, and the rate he charged is almost double what I do.”
“So was she being ripped off?” Gabi asked, but I shook my head.
“No,” I said, stepping forward to look at the papers over his shoulder. “Unless I miss my guess, she was havin’ her boyfriend write up phony bills for services that weren’t rendered and parts that weren’t installed.”
“Skeet, what do you know about Frank Hawkins?” Hunter asked, moving around me to take a seat in the other rocker. “She was dating him, and I know he has a repair service.”
Skeeter lifted a shoulder. “He’s an okay dude. A little holier-than-thou, but he’s thrown me work and vice versa. I’ve never heard of him doin’ anything like this. I don’t know him that well, but that’s the sort of thing that would get around pretty quick.”
“Okay,” Hunter said, nodding. “I’m gonna go talk to him, but I wanted you to take a look first.”
“No problem, Sheriff,” Skeet said, grinning and handing the folder back to Hunter. “Now if you folks’ll excuse me, I provided expert testimony and put that stubborn donkey in his place again. My work here’s done, and I have a ’57 Chevy sittin’ at the garage needin’ some sparkplugs.”
“And I have beans and cornbread to eat,” I said, pulling the screen door open. I didn’t want to add that I also had a nap in my future because that would have been mean to Hunter. That didn’t make it less true, though.
Chapter 10
Two hours later, I woke up feeling like a new woman. No weird dreams, and I was starting to believe that the ones I’d had were probably stress-related. Still, though, I was smart enough to know not to ignore it entirely. I pulled out my phone and called Camille on my way to the truck.
“Hey, girl,” she said when she answered. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed the ability to fly or something. My day’s been normal so far, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
I laughed. “No, no flying yet, and if I ever do figure it out, you can keep it. Heights aren’t my thing. I am calling about my recent weirdness, though. I had a dream. Well, two, actually. And even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s just stress, I figured I’d better let you know.”
She groaned. “Not dreams again. I’d tell you to write them off but considering somebody crawled in your head through them not too long ago, I’m glad you called. Tell me all about them.”
I did and added the experience in the barn in for good measure. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably a trick of the light and my subconscious messing with me, but now you know.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “No, I’m glad you did. The thing with dream interpretation is that it’s an art rather than a science, and that’s not even taking into consideration that somebody might actually be reaching out to you or that your new brain activity might be responsible. I wish I could tell you that we caught all the bad guys, but that wouldn’t be true. Even if we had caught all the ones involved with Katrina—and we didn’t—there are always fresh upstarts out there looking to make a power-grab. I’ll tell everybody to be alert. If you have any more dreams or visions, let me know.”
I knew she wasn’t blowing me off, not only because she took any magical threat seriously, but also because her daughter Emma was thick as thieves with Shelby. They worked together at the Celestial Academy and Camille was like a mama bear when it came to both of them. I couldn’t have asked for a better set of eyes on my little sister.
“Will do,” I said. “Now I have to go deal with more mundane things.”
“Yeah, does Hunter have any leads yet?”
“Sort of. He found out she’s ripping off her clients, so not only do we have to look at tenants like Miranda, now he’s going to take a look at the property owners. At least that means she’s not the only suspect even though she’s the handiest one.”
“Yeah,” she replied, “but Miranda’s no dummy. She wouldn’t have killed someone at the bar that she’d just been seen fighting with a few hours earlier.”
“You know that, and I know that, but you know how things go,” I said. Small towns were great, but if Hunter didn’t solve it, the stain would always hang over her.
“I do. I have faith, though. And relax. I’m sure the dreams aren’t as dire as they felt, but I’ll double down on security and have everybody reach out to their contacts to see if there’s anything new brewing.”
We disconnected, and I felt better as I shoved my phone in my back pocket and climbed into my truck. I figured while Hunter was occupied, I’d take it down and unload it. As I drove to town, thoughts of my father floated through my mind. My mom had died when we were little, and he’d taken us to Addy’s when I was eleven, dropped us off, and we’d never seen him again. When he hadn’t shown up after a few days, Addy and Uncle Calvin had gathered our belongings from our house and moved us to the farm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It still left a lot of questions, though. He’d left behind papers signing over custody along with banking info for accounts that they’d started for Shelby and me, but no letter of explanation. He just left. Addy’d told us later that as far as she could tell, all he’d taken was a suitcase of clothes.
The farm had been an amazing place to grow up, and Addy and Calvin had surrounded us with love, but the myste
ry still niggled at me. That’s why I was more prone to think it was my subconscious torturing me than my dad actually contacting me. After all, he’d left of his own free will and hadn’t bothered to contact us in the real world, so I had no reason to think he’d jump through hoops to contact me in my dreams, especially considering he had no magic. No, there were a hundred more plausible explanations.
Swinging a right into the alley that ran behind my shop, I pulled over as far as I could so I wasn’t blocking the road, then hopped out. In the short time it took me to carry the chairs, doors, and desk inside, I was so hot that my shirt was sticking to me and the humidity had turned my hair to a frizzy mess. Erol wasn’t there, so I slapped a coat of varnish on the other sides of the doors and decided to go grab an iced latte before Brew closed.
Before I left, I pulled out the drawers on the desk. The top was a mess and would have to be removed, but I hoped the drawers were in good shape. Otherwise, I’d have to build new ones, which would take time and add cost to the production. The left one was perfect, and the right one slid out smooth as silk, too. Something rattled in it, so I pulled it out a little further. A silver charm bracelet lay near the back, and when I pulled it out, I was a little surprised by the charms. Rather than the standard Eiffel tower or puppy or Yoda charms, it had several small stones and crystals caged in filigreed silver. It was beautiful, mostly because it was different. I wasn’t a huge fan of mass-produced jewelry, but this one called to me.
“Now where did you come from?” I wondered, holding it up to the light. I wasn’t a big crystal or gem person, so I didn’t recognize more than a couple of them. It was pretty though. I checked it for any signs of engraving or another way to identify it, but there were none. Even though I wanted to put it on, I hesitated. We’d had a bad experience with found jewelry, and even though I wasn’t into crystals, I was a witch and new crystals had juju. I slipped it into my pocket until I could investigate it further, then locked up and headed to Brew.
“Wow, does it feel awesome in here,” I said with a sigh of relief when I pushed through the coffee shop door. Even though it was still spring, the heat was oppressive.
“It does,” Angel, the other girl who worked for Raeann, said. “I just took the trash out and about died. Looks like we’re just skippin’ spring this year.”
Levana nodded, her high ponytail bobbing. “I swear, it was never like this when I was young.”
I gave her a small smile but targeted my words at both of them. Levana had been born several hundred years before, back before pollution, emissions, and methane were issues. Angel didn’t know that, though. “Yeah, funny how things have changed so quickly, huh?”
There were still several people in the shop, most of them sitting by themselves tapping away on laptops.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I moved around the counter to make myself an iced Loca Mocha.
“The AC’s out at the entire Peach Tree Business Complex,” Angel said, “so they came here to work, instead.”
“Isn’t that where Barbie Lee’s office is?” Talk about irony.
Angel laughed. “Yeah, now that you mention it, it is.”
I raised a brow. Nobody ever accused me of looking a gift horse in the mouth. “I wonder what her business neighbors thought of her.”
“One way to find out,” Angel said with a wink. “Might be a good time to find out if anybody needs a refill or would like a muffin. Don’t offer blueberry though. We ran out an hour ago.”
“How are you out of blueberry muffins?” I asked, leaning over to look in the pastry case. Sure enough, the spot where the blueberry muffins went was bare. “I just brought two dozen down yesterday morning.”
Angel shrugged. “We’ve been busy, and the muffins are delicious? I’d love to know your secret. I’ve never tasted anything you baked that wasn’t amazing.”
I smiled back and pulled my apron off the hook by the register. I still helped Rae out sometimes when both Angel and Levana needed the day off. I took a long pull off my latte then tied on the apron. “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. Wish me luck.”
The person sitting at the nearest table was a young guy in a nice blue suit and purple tie. He was scrolling through a spreadsheet and making notes on a notepad. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he picked up the empty cup beside him and took a drink, then scowled when he realized there was nothing left.
“Hey,” I said, smiling when he looked up. “Sorry to interrupt, but would you like me to refill that for you?”
“Oh,” he said, a little startled, then handed me the cup. “Yeah, that would be great. Just a regular coffee with cream. I still have a sugar here.”
I took his cup back and filled it. When I set it down beside him, he smiled and rolled his head on his shoulders. “I didn’t realize I’d been sitting here this long. My neck is stiff.”
“Whatcha doin’ there?” I asked motioning to his laptop.
“Oh, I’m an accountant,” he said, ripping open a packet of sugar and stirring it into his coffee. “With tax season coming up, I’m slammed right now. Everybody always waits til the last minute.”
“Bummer on having the AC out in your building, then,” I said, but he shook his head.
“Nah, it’s actually been nice working here for a change. I might start doing it on purpose a day or two a week.” He gave me a self-deprecating smile. “It sort of gives me the illusion of having a life.”
He was a good-looking guy even if he was a little on the nerdy side, so that surprised me, but I let it pass. None of my business. “You work over in the Peach Tree, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “That place is ancient. We’re always having problems, but since the property manager had her office there, things were always taken care of as soon as they went wrong.” He rolled his eyes. “At least as long as it affected her, too. If it was something confined to just an office or two, it was a different story. I’m not sure what’s going on there now that she’s dead. I called her assistant this morning, but it went to voice mail.”
“Her assistant?” That was the first I’d heard of that, and now it made me wonder which one of them was doctoring the books. Could it be that Barbie Lee had been getting bamboozled?
“Yeah, Noreen,” he said, “She—”
“Excuse me, miss. I need a refill, too.” An older lady with a sour expression was waving her cup at me. I pulled in a breath and blew it out slowly. She was a customer, and I imagine the optics of a waitress taking care of just one customer were bad.
Levana rushed forward to take care of the woman, waving me off.
I turned back to the guy. “You were saying?”
He smiled. “Noreen Hinkle. She’s just as bad as Barbie Lee. They were two peas in a pod. Condescending, rude, entitled. I avoided them both like the plague.”
“And you say Noreen was Barbie Lee’s assistant?”
He nodded. “And friends, too, it appeared. I saw them out together a few times after work hours.”
“Did you see Barbie Lee argue with anybody recently?” I asked.
He tilted his head at me. “Are you sure you’re a waitress? All of a sudden, I feel like I’m talking to a cop rather than a barista.”
I smiled. “No, I really am a server. At least sometimes. I’m also engaged to the sheriff, so I suppose I am asking from more than just curiosity.” I held out my hand. “Noelle Flynn.”
He shook it, smiling. I was glad he was being a good sport. “Noah Brooks. Nice to meet you. Does he have any leads? I heard that cocktail waitress did it.”
“He’s just now getting into the meat of it. The first few hours are usually information finding, but I know he has some leads.” I didn’t want to show Hunter’s hand even though it made me mad that poor Miranda was already getting tarred.
The best I could do was throw my back into it and make sure the feathers didn’t follow.
Chapter 11
I fired off a text to Hunter, but he didn�
��t respond. Not necessarily unusual when he was on a case, but that was information he needed, assuming he hadn’t already found out about her.
I stretched to pull more cups from the storage cubby, and something poked me through my shorts pocket. I stuck my hand in and pulled out the charm bracelet.
“Ooh,” Levana said. “That’s pretty. Did Hunter get it for you?”
I shook my head. “I found it in an old desk I bought at the auction this morning. Since they’re stones and crystals, I wanted to get a second opinion on whether it’s got any juju attached to it before I wore it.”
She stuck out her hand. “Let me see it.”
Levana was excellent at auras and detecting magic. She’d known I was a witch way before I’d figured her out, and I trusted her. I laid it across her palm, and she closed her eyes. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, then pressed her lips together and pushed them to the side, thinking.
“I don’t feel any bad magic, but the crystals do hold some sort of residual charge. Not much, but it’s there. Cleanse them in saltwater overnight, and you’ll be fine.”
I arched a brow at her. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” she said with a decisive nod. “There’s nothing bad there. You’d be safe even if you didn’t cleanse them, but it’s not good to wear crystals that are charged to somebody else’s energy.”
“Thanks,” I said, stuffing it back into my pocket. “I’m gonna run up to the courthouse. Hunter hasn’t returned my call, and I want to make sure he knows about the assistant.”
I made a to-go cup of iced tea and stuffed a couple bear claws into one bag, three orange-cranberry muffins into another, and two mixed-berry turnovers into a third, then tossed all three into a plastic bag. “See y’all later. If you hear anything else, please let me know.”
I slid my sunglasses on and pushed the door open with my hip. The sky was a little overcast, so it felt a little cooler than it had earlier. I was glad for that since I’d left my truck at the shop. I took my time wandering up the sidewalk and paused when I passed Penelope’s Bridal Shop.
