by Amy Boyles
I inhaled deeply, trying to tamp down the geyser of panic thrusting its way up my throat. “So what should I do?”
Axel shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to do. I’ll keep you posted on the situation and don’t worry, I’ll follow Rufus, make sure he doesn’t try anything.”
I nodded quietly.
Axel took me in his arms and wrapped me in an unexpected hug. My hands hung numbly from my sides, but only for half a second before I realized I’d get to feel his muscular body beneath my palms if I reacted fast enough.
I reacted fast enough.
I contemplated bursting into tears ‘cause then I’d really get a lot more hugs, but I stopped myself. I was a business owner and a responsible person.
Though I had to admit, I liked having his arms around me.
Axel whispered in my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I pulled away and nodded. “Thanks. But maybe Rufus won’t bother me. Maybe he’ll come for his mother’s funeral and he won’t start throwing that blue light at me and demanding I go with him or die. I mean, it could happen.”
Axel grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
We walked in silence the rest of the way. Axel dropped me off at my house. “I’ll keep you posted as to what’s going on.”
“Thanks.”
He gave me a quick hug and I walked inside. Cordelia and Amelia were up fixing a breakfast of cereal and milk.
“It’s not Betty’s breakfast,” Cordelia said, “but we won’t starve, either.”
I laughed. “That’s true. So she hasn’t come home yet, I take it.”
Amelia shook her head of extensions. “No, but it’s early. Maybe they’ll release her by lunch.” She tapped a finger on the table. “You don’t think they’re interrogating her really hard, do you?”
Cordelia grimaced. “I sure hope not. She’s old and ornery, but she’s not a criminal.”
I sank into a chair, grabbed a bowl and started building my own breakfast. “I hope they see it that way. They are taking the word of a bird over hers.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah. Well. That’s probably not so good.”
I shook my head. “No, but what can we do? We have to wait for them to release her.”
A loud cluck came from the cardboard box against the wall.
Cordelia frowned. “Speaking of birds, what are we going to do about that one?”
I smirked. “I need to feed the animals. I’ll take the hen with me and get her out for a bit.”
Amelia picked at her long hair. “I’ve got to wash it this morning for my date with Lane. I hope I can style it right and do my makeup.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “I’ll help you glam up. Don’t worry.”
“I know, but I have no idea how I’m going to keep doing this. I can’t imitate Betty’s talents. The hair is one thing—blowing it dry and styling, but the makeup—there’s the highlighting and contouring. I don’t know if I can do it right. What if Lane takes one look at me and wonders if I’m the same person from the night before? What if he doesn’t recognize me?”
I stifled a laugh. “I think you’ll be fine. If this guy doesn’t like you for who you are, then he’s an idiot.”
Cordelia nodded. “That’s exactly right.”
We ate breakfast then I showered and dressed while Mattie rested on the window seat. My bedroom had been my mom’s when she was growing up and according to Betty still had all the same furnishings.
The room filled me with warmth. The bright colors, the awards Mom had won—all of it made me feel close to the woman who’d died giving birth to me.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I had an inkling of who my mother had been.
Living here made me feel close to her.
“How’d it go this morning, sugar?” Mattie said.
“Fine. Peter was easy, though he mentioned something about Melbalean not being who she said she was.”
Mattie blinked at me. “I tend to stay more in the animal world than the human one since I’m an animal, and that’s not somethin’ I’d ever heard before.”
A thought occurred to me. “Did Melbalean have any pets?”
“I wouldn’t know, but one of the other cats in town might.”
My eyes flared with interest. “I don’t know if I’ll need you to ask around, but if the police don’t release Betty…”
Mattie stretched. “How about I go ahead and see what I can find out? Just in case.”
I sighed, relieved. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“If you could just open the window for me.”
I clicked my tongue. “You got it, sugarbear.”
Mattie made what sounded like a cat laugh. She jumped onto the sill and padded down the side of the roof like a cat who took ballet every day of her life.
“Be careful,” I said before closing the window. I washed my hands and grabbed my things, readying to head to Familiar Place and feed the critters there.
As soon as I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the animals started meowing and barking. When I wasn’t at the pet shop the animals went into stasis, basically a deep slumber until I returned. It happened as soon as I closed the door and left.
I didn’t know exactly how it worked, and no one else could tell me. Unfortunately, my late Uncle Donovan—Betty’s brother--who’d left me the store, had died quickly from sickness and didn’t leave a manual, so I pretty much had to wing the shop business.
I placed the cardboard box on the ground, pulled out the hen and placed her feed in the corner. As soon as I rose, I noticed a twinge of a headache looming behind my eyes.
Probably eye strain or something. I’d find some ibuprofen when I left and see if that took care of it.
“You brought her back,” one of the kittens said.
“Can we eat her?” one of the puppies added.
I fisted my hands on my hips. “No eating the hen. She’s here to walk around and get some exercise.”
Most of the animals in the cages were young, hadn’t lived very long. The birds were older, with I suspected more life experience, so they might have an inkling of an answer to the question I wanted to ask.
“Have any of y’all ever seen a hen attack a person and kill them?”
The animals all stopped. They stared blankly at me as if my words didn’t make any sense to them.
“No,” squawked one of the parrots. “I’ve never known that to happen.”
“Hmm, that’s what I was thinking.”
Not that I thought that Melbalean’s hen had killed her, but the animal was covered in blood and had pointed the finger at Betty.
And wouldn’t that be just about perfect? A killer hen. No one would suspect it. But that still meant that someone had to cast a spell on it, or breed it for that purpose.
I sighed. Or maybe I was simply crazy with an overactive imagination. Yep. That was probably it.
Maybe Axel would find something out when he contacted the chicken seller.
A knock came from the door. I glanced up to see Cordelia tapping on the glass. I smiled and let her in.
“Hey, everything okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I just thought I’d come keep you company for a few minutes.” She hopped onto a stool behind the cash register. “Amelia’s ready for her date. She was driving me crazy, trying to figure out the perfect outfit to wear.”
“I guess she likes him.”
Cordelia shot me a long glance. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sarcasm I sensed in the look. “She only just met him. It’s not like it’s love or anything.”
“You never know,” I said.
She shrugged. “I guess not. But the fact that our grandmother set her up would be enough to make me run for the hills.”
“Maybe Betty finally got it right.”
Cordelia raked her fingers through her long blond tresses. “Right and I’m betting if she were around, Betty wouldn’t be waiting up for them with
a shotgun tossed over her knees.”
I laughed, remembering my strict ten pm curfew. If I’m not home by then, Betty’s waiting behind the front door with her shotgun.
Yep. She’s quite the character, my grandmother.
“That’s because she only just met you,” Cordelia said. “I think she worries about you more than us because you don’t know much about our world. Probably why she always tells you to stop kissing, too.”
“So it’s because she loves me?”
Cordelia clicked her tongue. “You got it.”
“What about your boyfriend, Zach?” I said.
Cordelia hugged her arms. “He’s supposed to be home soon. Right now, he’s looking for a lost magical civilization in the Andes.”
“Wow,” I said. “Impressive.”
“Yeah. It’s some part of our witch history he wants to recover,” she said.
A dark figure suddenly fluttered in front of the door. I glanced up to see Officer Garrick Young turning the knob.
He strode in, all six foot five of him. Or however tall he was, cause this guy was tall and lean. Cordelia’s eyes widened when she set eyes on him. I couldn’t help but notice that Garrick flashed her a smile and held her gaze for a moment.
He shuffled in his cowboy boots. “Ladies, I’m sorry to bother you.”
I stepped forward. “It’s fine. My cousin Cordelia and I have been worried sick about Betty.”
He tipped his hat. “Cordelia. I’m Garrick.”
Red dots spotted her cheeks. “How do you do?”
“Mighty fine,” he said.
Looked like those two were about to lose themselves in each other’s eyes. I cleared my throat. “Is Betty okay?”
“She’s doing well. But that’s not why I came.”
I frowned. “Why’d you come?”
He glanced at the hen strutting back and forth. “I need that bird.”
“But this is Betty’s hen,” I said. “She doesn’t know anything. Didn’t see anything that I know of. I mean, I didn’t try asking her about it because the last time I talked to the bird, she didn’t answer. So you see, I don’t think she can talk. In fact, I’d tried asking her questions before and she didn’t answer. That’s why I didn’t think the other bird would speak, Melbalean’s bird.”
They both stared at me with glazed eyes. I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I chatter when I get nervous.”
“That’s quite all right,” Garrick said. “I see that a lot in my business.”
The implication of his words hit me. “Oh, well, I’m not nervous because I’m guilty or anything. Sometimes I just get nervous.”
He slid two fingers along the brim of his hat. “That’s fine, but I still need to confiscate that hen from you ladies.”
“Why?” Cordelia said.
His gaze slid toward her. “Regardless of what you think, according to Betty, that hen is very important.”
“How so?” I said.
Garrick’s dark eyes peeked out from under the brim of his hat. “According to Betty, that bird holds the secret to who killed Melbalean.”
TEN
“Oh, I just said that so they’d let me go.”
Cordelia and I had returned to the house. Betty stood at the hearth. She plucked some of the herbs from the dried stalks over the mantel. She ground them between her hands and dropped them in a bubbling cauldron.
Betty snorted. “I told them to test that chicken’s DNA, see if it could lead them to the killer.”
I rocked in one of the chairs situated around the fireplace. “How does that help you?”
Betty grinned like an evil Disney villain. “I don’t know, but I’m out, so it worked.”
I sighed. Right. I’m sure it was all because of the chicken. “So they couldn’t hold you?”
She pulled out her pipe and snapped her fingers. The end smoked as she brought it to her lips. “Didn’t have any evidence that pointed to me. At least, not that I know of. But they told me not to go far, so I think they still suspect me.”
I frowned. “Axel is tracking down information on the hen. Maybe that’ll help us figure some things out.”
Betty took a long drag of the pipe and exhaled, creating perfect smoke rings that buoyed in the air before warping into wisps. “Maybe he’ll turn up something.” Her gaze slid over to Amelia. “How’d things go with that boy of yours?”
Amelia smiled brightly. “Great. He’s coming by soon. We’ll be going out again.”
Betty rubbed her hands together. “What are we doing sitting around here for, girls? We need to get lunch cracking.”
In less than half a second, turnip greens boiled in the cauldron and a pan of chicken fried steak sizzled in a skillet beside it.
“Extra Crisco, if you please,” I said.
“Coming right up,” Betty said.
Amelia popped up beside us. “Here’s the thing. I can’t quite get my hair and makeup right.”
A glint of mischief shone in Betty’s eyes. “Leave it to me, kid.”
She placed her thumb on her nose. Magic shimmered from her left nostril like sparks of fire. They danced over to Amelia, where they petered out like dying embers.
“Hmm,” Betty said. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I twisted a strand of honey and crimson hair. “You mean the part where a booger of magic blew out of your nose or the part where you snotted on her?”
Betty rested the spatula on her hip. “Very funny. I don’t know what kind of manners you learned while you were living out in the wilds of America, but here in Magnolia Cove we don’t talk to our elder witches like that.”
I threw my arms around Betty and said, “I missed you.”
She sniffled. “I missed you, too. But watch it.”
“Does my hair look better?” Amelia said.
Truth be told, I hadn’t noticed much difference in Amelia’s hair until she raked her fingers through it and one of the tendrils fell out.
Cordelia grimaced. “I tried to help her with it earlier, but my magic isn’t as good as yours,” she said to Betty.
Betty huffed. “I think those police did something to me.”
I picked up the strand of golden hair and handed it to Amelia. “What would they have done?”
She flicked her fingers at the food. It vanished from the hearth and reappeared on the dining table. “I told those idiots I wasn’t a flight risk. Told them they didn’t need to worry about me leaving town. Heck-in-high-heels, this town would explode without me.”
“I think you mean implode,” Cordelia said. “You know, like it would fall apart. Not blow up.”
“I know what I said,” Betty snapped. “And if I said explode into a million pieces of confetti, then that’s what I meant.”
Cordelia made an o with her mouth. “All right then.”
“I think to keep me from leaving, they screwed with my ability to change things and create glamours. Just wait until I get my hands on that new sheriff’s neck. I’m going to throttle him like a hen that’s about to be Sunday dinner.”
“He’s kinda cute,” Cordelia said shyly.
Betty’s eyes sparked interest, but they quickly died when a knock came from the door.
Amelia wrung her hands. “It’s him. Lane. He’s here. Help. You’ve got to make me beautiful.”
Cordelia snapped her fingers and a band appeared in her hands. “Come on. We’ll give you a sloppy bun. It’ll look great.”
“Please don’t let more hair fall out,” Amelia prayed.
“If it does we’ll say you’ve got leprosy,” Betty said.
Amelia cringed. “That’s horrible.”
I shrugged. “Could be worse. Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom and Betty can answer the door.”
Five minutes of primping and updoing Amelia’s hair had her looking like a Southern prom queen and made her shine like a diamond.
“You look beautiful,” I said. “Like, you could win Miss Cotton and Cobwebs.”
“You
think so?” she said. “I’d love to win. That is, if they keep the festival open.”
“Maybe they will,” I said.
We burst out of the bathroom and found Betty stuffing Lane full of sweet tea and cheese biscuits.
Lane’s gaze swept across the room and landed on Amelia. “How is it you can look more beautiful than you did yesterday?”
Wow. I wasn’t sure whether to throw up or be really impressed with him.
“Lane, you’re so sweet,” Amelia said. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”
He nodded. “I’d love to.”
Betty dished up everyone’s plates and we’d just sat when another knock came from the door.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” Cordelia said.
“Me, neither,” I said.
Betty nodded to Amelia, who scooted from her seat and crossed the living room. I heard the door open and slam just as quickly.
“No one was there,” Amelia said.
She moved toward us when the knocking started again.
“Well somebody’s there,” Betty said.
“Nope. No one. Just a magical practical joke,” Amelia insisted.
The rapping loudened until Betty threw her napkin on the table and crossed to the door. Amelia curled a hand around her arm. “I promise. It’s no one.”
“No one who knocks like a bear? You can bet your biscuits I’m not that stupid.” She threw open the door.
In walked Licky and Mint.
No wonder Amelia had pretended no one was here. Licky, Amelia’s mother, took one look at her daughter and said, “Why Amelia, I almost didn’t recognize you. What have you done to your hair?”
Amelia smiled brightly as Lane focused his attention on her. “Oh, you know, it’s just some hairspray and a little teasing. Nothing serious.”
Mint pulled up a chair. “Sunday dinner at Mama’s. There ain’t nothing like this in all the world.” She grabbed a square of fried meat, dragged it through a dish of white gravy and took a bite. “Umm-hmm. Nothing like it.”
Betty pointed a finger at her. “Y’all two had better not call down a flock of pooping seagulls onto my house. Or anything else. We’re trying to enjoy a nice meal with Amelia’s new boyfriend, Lane.”
