Barbecue & Brooms (A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by Bella Falls

  “That makes three jerks, including Earl. Why would they do what they did?” I asked.

  Nana stopped fussing over me. “Hate rots things from the inside out. Big Willie’s decided that whole group of boys will wait out the rest of the event in a warden’s cell.”

  “Won’t that affect how Honeysuckle is viewed by the outside witches’ council?” I whispered to my grandmother.

  She scoffed and licked the rag she was cleaning me with. “I’d rather them see that we’re not scared and do the right thing when something wrong happens than roll over and take it. Now stay still so I can get this last smudge.”

  Henry rushed over to our group. He approached Mason and whispered something in his ear. “You sure?” clarified the detective.

  “As a fox in a henhouse,” replied my assistant. He whispered something to Nana, who nodded her approval.

  “What’s going on?” I insisted.

  Mason promised Henry he’d be right behind him. “We’ve caught who’s been orchestrating all the betting. I’ve got to go.”

  With my bad arm, I held him in place, asking through clenched teeth, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  The detective laid his hand over mine. “I’m going to the station to perform an interrogation.” He patted me twice. “You stay here and take care of yourself.”

  I brushed Blythe’s hand away from my hair. “It would take all the hippogriffs in the world to keep me from coming with you.”

  Mason and Nana tag-teamed and listed several reasons why I shouldn’t go. The detective crossed his arms and mustered up a little authority. “Plus, hippogriffs aren’t real.”

  I kissed my grandmother’s cheek and pushed past Mason. “That’s what you think,” I muttered.

  “What did you say?” he challenged.

  I turned and walked backwards. “Hurry up, Detective. I wouldn’t want you to lose this race and let me get there first.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stared out the window from the patrol car Mason borrowed from Zeke to take me with him to the warden station. He asked me questions about the race, but I only offered short responses to avoid the bigger issue I should be telling him about.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” Mason placed a hand on my knee. “I can easily drop you off at your place first.”

  Guilt throbbed more than the pain in my shoulder and arm. The nicer the detective became, the more it gnawed at my insides.

  “No, thanks.” I patted his hand, hoping he’d remove it.

  Instead, he turned his palm up and laced his fingers through mine. “That’s fine. We’re almost there anyway. I trust you.”

  His words sliced through me like sharp knives. I wondered how much more hurt I’d become if I opened the door and rolled out onto the ground to get away from the cloud of shame threatening to choke me in the car.

  Mason pulled up to the station and waved at my brother through the window. I rushed to open the door, panicking when the handle didn’t work. “What. Is. Wrong. With. This. Thing,” I grunted.

  He gave me an odd look and hit a button on his side. The lock on the door clicked up. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.” With forced patience, I slid out of the car determined not to run away.

  The detective escorted me inside. The few staff in the lobby cheered for me like I was a big deal. Matt walked over with a wide grin and pulled me into a big bear hug.

  “Ouch,” I complained, pain shooting down my arm.

  My brother placed me back on the floor with greater care. “Oops. I forgot Nana’s first order in her text not to hurt you. I’m just so danged proud of you, sis.”

  “Not gonna call me, Birdy?” I teased.

  He clicked his tongue. “What good is a nickname that bothers you if everyone uses it to praise you?”

  Dash’s brother Davis appeared, walking out of the bathroom and wiping his hands on his pants. “Took you long enough.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Mason asked Matt.

  “Hey, a little respect, please.” Davis held his head up with pride. “I’m the one who figured it out and came up with the plan to catch them in the end. Y’all ready to stop interrogating me and start talking to the masterminds of the betting?”

  Mason stopped checking over the younger wolf shifter, his head snapping up. “Mastermind-s-s-s? There’s more than one? All you said was that we caught whoever was in charge.”

  Something crashed at the back of the station and a loud voice yelled out, “Hey! Can we get somethin’ to drink back here? I know my rights.” A banging of metal followed the complaint.

  Matt groaned and rubbed his hand down his face. “I know Nana wanted those fools detained to keep them away from the event for the rest of the day, but we could have kicked them out and sent them on their merry.”

  “Is that Earl and his gang?” I asked.

  “You mean the barrel full of jerks? Yep,” Matt confirmed. “They were mostly shnockered to begin with, so they deserve what they’re getting. Then the one who attempted to assault Horatio on the race course also threw a punch at Zeke. We nabbed a couple of their other buddies who were drunk and disorderly for good measure.”

  “Great,” exhaled Mason. “You got enough people here to handle them if they get out of control?”

  My brother sniffed. “Where are they gonna go? We’ve got things handled. I’ll call back a couple of the others if TJ texts me she needs something.”

  My eyebrows raised in alarm. “Is she okay?” Maybe some of the magic we conjured last night had affected her anyway.

  “Oh, she’s fine. I think she’s upset that she’s so close to giving birth yet too far away, in her words. Doc Andrews suggested she should stay home and avoid too much excitement, which I completely agreed with,” Matt added.

  “Pfft, you’d practically handcuff her to the bed to keep anything from happening to her,” I accused.

  My brother wiggled his eyebrows. “How do you think we made the baby?”

  Davis snickered. I punched Matt with my weaker arm, and he fake flinched. Why did all my family members think I needed to hear about their sexy times?

  Mason laughed, and I swung to hit him, too. He caught my hand mid-air. “Don’t even try it. I’m going to take Charli to my office and then I’ll go check out these masterminds, plural, in the interrogation room. Davis, we’ll see you later.” Placing a hand on the small of my back, he escorted me down the hall.

  “You weren’t very nice to the guy who helped break down the betting bookie. And don’t think you’re going to stash me out of the way in your office, Detective.” I halted in front of the door and attempted to cross my arms, except the injured one wouldn’t cooperate without shooting pain.

  Mason smirked. “First, I treated Dash’s brother just fine. Second, you think I don’t know I couldn’t keep you in there if I wanted to? I wasn’t about to tell your brother I was allowing you to accompany me to interview the big bad bookies. But you’ve got to let me do the talking in there.”

  “Deal.” I stuck out the hand from my bad arm to shake on it.

  The detective gripped it with care and rubbed his thumb against my skin. I couldn’t meet his adoring gaze without guilt forcing the truth to burst out of my mouth. I promised myself I’d tell him as soon as we were finished with the interview.

  The detective ordered me to wait for his signal before I followed him inside. He opened the door and took a step in. I waited, but nothing happened.

  His body blocked the entrance, and I tapped his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ve gotta get in here to see.” Mason stepped to the side, giving me a full view.

  A kid and a gnome sat in metal chairs behind the table. Two pixies flanked them, floating in the air with their wings flapping as fast as a hummingbird’s.

  The boy, who couldn’t be older than ten or eleven, uncrossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at me. “You think bringing a hottie in here will get us to talk? If you clean
ed her up a little more, she might be worth it.”

  “I feel like I’ve walked into the middle of a joke,” I exclaimed. “You are the betting masterminds? What are you, kid, ten years old?”

  The boy slapped the table. “My name is Owen and I’m thirteen. I told the idiot who threw us in here that I’m small for my age but much smarter than any of you wardens.”

  “I’m twenty-six,” quipped the gnome. “You can call me Jasper, and I don’t mind the dirt on you.”

  “Congratulations,” replied Mason. “You’re old enough to know better.” He turned his attention back to the kid. “Why do you think you’re smarter?”

  Owen leaned forward. “Because everyone ignores you when you’re small. Most witches don’t even acknowledge other supernatural races as being equal, and they definitely think those of us who are smaller are weaker. Witches have no clue that the smallest of all the magical beings in the world could outstrip any of their collective magic.”

  The realization of who we were dealing with stunned me, and I tried to cover up my surprise with a cough, sitting down in the seat in front of the kid. “You sound older than you are.”

  He jutted his chin out with pride. “My grandpa raised me. He taught me a lot of valuable things.”

  The more information he gave up, the better my chances increased to get what we wanted out of him. “My grandmother had a hand in raising me, too. What would your grandpa think about you being at the warden station for illegal gambling?” I pushed.

  “He’d be proud to bail me out. Who do you think taught me the business?” replied Owen. “And that’s all I’ve got to say to you.”

  “Then you can talk to me.” Mason sat down on my right.

  The boy crossed his arms. “Aren’t you gonna ask Pip and Nip how old they are?” Owen snarked, sitting back in his seat. “That’s why we’re smarter than both of you.”

  I greeted the two pixies by their names, and they squealed with glee in their high-pitched tone. One of them fluttered its wings and flew over to me. It rubbed its head against my hurt shoulder a couple of times, reminding me of my cat Peaches and her displays of affection.

  Mason waved the pixie away from me, and the little creature shook a minuscule finger at him and then pointed at my shoulder.

  “Don’t,” I suggested. “I think Pip is trying to help.” My shoulder had stopped throbbing after the pixie touched it.

  “That’s Nip,” corrected Owen. “He must like you to waste his power like that.”

  “My sincerest apologies, Nip,” I addressed the pixie. “Did you just do something to help my injury?”

  The creature flapped its wings and nodded its head up and down. He spoke too fast for me to understand, but I guessed he was explaining how his powers would heal me. Bowing out of respect, Nip flew forward and placed his hands on my scraped cheek. The sting of the impending bruises and open cuts disappeared.

  “Wow.” Mason didn’t say anything else while he watched the pixie share its power with me.

  The brush of Nip’s fragile wings against my skin tickled. He uttered something I couldn’t understand, so I nodded without comprehension. He flew at me and kissed my cheek, giving me a tiny peck that tingled with the hint of bigger magic.

  Owen snickered. “You’re in for it now. You just agreed he could woo you.”

  “Get in line,” Mason grunted, his eyes narrowing on the poor pixie. If he felt that strongly about the tiny creature expressing his interest, how would he react when I told him about Dash’s romantic moment with me?

  “Oh, now I get it. She’s your girlfriend, and you brought her in here to impress her. Well, I’m sorry if we can’t help you out, sir,” Owen stated. “We ain’t tellin’ you nothin’.”

  “Nothin’,” echoed the gnome.

  “But if you’re as smart as you claim to be, then don’t you think it would be wiser to work with the wardens? You don’t know why you were pulled in other than assuming you were in trouble.” I dangled the bait. “What if there’s something else they want?”

  Jasper blinked, looking too confused to give a helpful response. Nip and Pip got into a heated discussion with each other above the gnome and kid’s heads.

  Owen shouted at the two pixies to stop. He whispered something to Jasper, who nodded. When the boy sat straighter in his seat, he asked, “What do you want to know?”

  Mason took out his notebook and pencil. “Tell me how you were running things.”

  For the most part, Henry got it right when he told us how things worked yesterday. The pixies spelled proxy objects to give out betting info and collect the actual money. Their diminutive size did make them practically invisible to everyone else, allowing Owen and Jasper to run things smoothly.

  “If it weren’t for another gnome and a fairy with her army of pixies, we would have gotten away with everything,” complained Owen. “I didn’t know towns like yours existed.”

  Pride for our special town filled me to the brim. “Maybe that makes us a whole lot smarter than you thought,” I jabbed back.

  Clint wouldn’t need to pay for a drink for a long time. Juniper earned herself a whole lot of home cooked meals as did her boyfriend Horatio, who had the intelligence to ask for her help. I’d make sure Alison Kate baked whatever any of them wanted for an entire month.

  “You know, we’ve been making a decent living across most of the South,” piped up Jasper.

  “Shut up, idiot,” Owen hissed.

  Mason interrupted before all four of them erupted into an all-out brawl. “We want to know who has been the biggest winner all weekend.”

  “What’s in it for us?” The kid leaned forward in his chair. “If we give you what you want, how will that help our current situation?”

  As much as I’d like to see someone in authority interfere and try to give the kid a better life as well as rehabilitate the other three to live within the limits of the law, we didn’t have time for things to go the way a warden might demand.

  “Give us the name and we’ll let you go,” I proposed.

  Mason turned to face me. “You don’t have the authority to offer that.”

  I gritted my teeth in a fake smile. “And we can’t delay any longer.” I pointed at the clock on the wall. “See the minutes ticking by?”

  The detective frowned, caught in the web of his internal struggle to follow the letter of the law or bend the rules a little to help a dying friend. Without looking up, he grunted, “What she said. But I want the top three winners for your freedom.”

  Owen smirked again. “And if we give those names to you, we get to leave with all our earnings and nobody arresting us?”

  “As long as those names check out to be real.” I stood up and placed both hands on the table, leaning forward to intimidate them. “You give us bogus information, and we’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.” I might have seen one too many police procedurals.

  Owen consulted with his associates. The one pixie squeaked a lot of words to the others. Nip took the time to wave at me and blow kisses.

  Mason glanced at the clock again. “The offer expires in three, two, one.”

  “Okay! There’s only two names of people who placed bets that always won despite the odds.” Owen pointed at me. “Funny enough, if I’m right and you’re Birdy Goodwin, then someone won big bucks when they bet on you in the last race.”

  It took a lot of restraint not to bounce in my seat. My efforts were worth it if we had the key to who might have stolen Lucky’s fortune.

  Mason held the pencil poised over the paper in his notebook. “I’m ready.”

  We left the odd little gang inside the interrogation room. They’d have to be contained at the station until we checked the validity of their claims.

  Once outside the room, I lost all my cool points at once. “Holy unicorn horn, I can’t believe it,” I sputtered, tugging on Mason’s shirt that read “Team Birdy” on the back of it.

  “Shh, try to stay calm,” the detective said
. “At least wait until we’re in a more private space before jumping up and down. Still, it is pretty unbelievable.”

  “Roddy ‘Big Mouth’ Bass and Franklin ‘Fireball’ Irving.” I whistled long and low. “I knew they were up to something when we overheard them talking after the sauce competition.”

  “They’ve been working together all this time to hustle a little money on the side. They’re taking a huge risk though, especially attacking Lucky.” Mason took out his spell phone.

  “Are you calling Nana?” I asked, stretching to look over his shoulder.

  “No, I’m texting Ben. We need to dig into their financial backgrounds quickly, and he’s the only one with the skills and connections to do so.” His fingers flew over the buttons of his phone.

  The same loud voice from before barked out from the back, interrupting us. “Hey! Whoever’s standing out there, bring us something to drink.”

  With a brilliant idea, I covered the detective’s mouth to stop him from replying. “Where’s your break room?”

  Mason pointed in the direction behind me, removing my hand. “Over there. Why? What are you going to do?”

  I winked at him. “I’ve got this.”

  When I returned, I held one plastic cup of sweet iced tea. “Could you open the door for me?” I asked the detective.

  “I don’t like you going in there alone,” he complained.

  “They’re locked up. Besides, you’re coming with me.” I grinned, a little too pleased with my idea of revenge.

  Mason unlocked the door and gave me room to walk in first. The rowdy men uttered disgusting comments about me, and I waited until there was a break in their insults and cheesy come-ons.

  “You kiss your mamas with those mouths?” I provoked. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re antagonizing the person bringing you what you asked for.”

  “Hey.” The racer who’d gone after me pushed the others out of the way. “Ain’t you that girl? I thought you was hurt.”

  I looked up and down my body. “No injuries here. Guess you failed to take me out and completely trashed your opportunity to win a place in the final exhibition race with the professionals.”