Felonies and Felines: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 4)

by Raven Snow

  I walked back to the door, keeping my hands up so Frank knew I wasn't a threat. He eyed me suspiciously as I opened it, and then his eyes widened when the door swung open, revealing a very angry Wyatt.

  "Wyatt Bennett?" Frank asked, dumbfounded. "What're you doing in my storeroom?"

  Before my boyfriend could do something stupid— like tell the truth— I said, "He told me this morning he was going to drop by and check on the place. You know, because of all the magic shop break-ins lately."

  Frank holstered his gun immediately, looking a little sheepish. "Shoot, son, I almost shot ya. Can't really make out faces on the crappy cameras I have."

  Noted.

  "Do you watch the feed constantly?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "It's precautionary, mostly. I just happened to look when Wyatt came in."

  Wyatt went to open his mouth, stricken, but I pressed mine to his, ending whatever he would've said. Coming up for air, I faced Frank again. "Mind if we take some of the past videos? Might help break the case."

  Pointing to a stack of DVDs, he said, "Sure, help yourself. Least I can do after the scare I gave you folks."

  Five minutes later, Wyatt was riding shotgun with Whale in his lap, Oliver in the back, and me cruising happily down the road with a pile of incriminating videos to my name.

  "Shoe’s on the other foot, now," Oliver said smugly.

  His voice aggravated the cat, and he lunged at him, sinking his claws into exposed skin. The next thing I heard from Oliver was a series of squeals and curses. When we pulled up at his stop, he practically dove from the car, landing on his butt on the sidewalk in a cloud of dirt.

  "Good kitty," Wyatt said. His good mood only lasted a fraction of a second. "I can't believe I did that. I've never committed a crime in my life."

  His color didn't look so good, so I patted his shoulder, then gave him a squeeze. "Welcome to the other side of the tracks."

  "I just... I don't know why I did it. One minute, I was headed to grab some lunch. The next, I was breaking into Frank's store. It seemed so logical and natural. My mind was completely blank."

  "Come into contact with any witches or warlocks today?" He gave me a snide look, and I said, "Besides the obvious."

  "The force was helping out at the voting polls today. It'd be easier to list who I haven't come into contact with today."

  Oh, yeah, voting. I remembered him saying something about that. I also vaguely remembered hearing about it on the news for six months straight. Oh well, I guess I'd just have to try again in four years. Or maybe not.

  "Don't worry, baby. Your big, strong woman will figure this out for you." I parked the car in our driveway.

  He unbuckled my seatbelt and used the excuse of his hand being already over there to squeeze my hips. Its pressure was delicious and one hundred percent Wyatt.

  "And how should I thank you for taking such good care of me?" he whispered in my ear, his teeth tugging gently on my earlobe.

  An alarm went off on both of our phones, reminding us to pick up Cooper.

  “Let’s just leave him there,” I said. “Better yet, ship him off to one of those boarding schools in Siberia. A little time away from the chocolate cereal would be good for him.”

  I shoved Cooper off on Wyatt so I could go inside and watch the films. I’d expected it to be like one of those cop shows where they do surveillance and someone starts shooting or doing something interesting almost immediately. This was not the case.

  My eyelids started to droop after watching the hundredth soccer mom pass by the outside of the shop. The camera was situated right over the desk, so I could see through the glass door and all of the front room.

  Eyes flying open, I noticed someone coming closer to the door. I pressed the fast forward button for the second time so it would slow down the real time.

  The man had picked the lock and was heaving it. I scrunched up my nose in distaste. Frank had been right; the resolution was crap. I could’ve counted every individual pixel and have been done in thirty seconds, tops.

  Still, I couldn’t help the feeling that I knew this guy. He reached into his black jacket and pulled something out. Not a lot of people wore black coats in Florida, so that was something. He pressed the object to his mouth, and I realized immediately what it was.

  I flew out the door, grabbing the car keys from a surprised Wyatt as I passed him on the threshold. Pressing a kiss to his and Cooper’s forehead, I dashed off toward his car, in too big a hurry to risk using the bug.

  “Will you be home for dinner?” Wyatt called from the door.

  “Order pizza!” I said, which was as good as an affirmative.

  A couple of minutes later, I pulled up at the Nelson residence. It was in one of Waresville’s many middle-class neighborhoods, and when I rang the doorbell, a woman in a floral apron answered.

  Her eyes widened at my disco shorts and frizzy hair. “Can I help you?”

  Giving her my most innocent smile, I said, “I’m working with the Waresville police force on a couple of break-ins. Would you mind if I talked to your son for a few minutes? We think he, or one of his friends, might have seen something that could help us with the case.”

  “Oh.” She looked a little surprised, probably used to Edward being a hindrance to the police, not a help. “Edward! Come up here.”

  A greasy head appeared on the stairs up from the basement a moment later. “It’s Ace, Mom. Ace.”

  Ah, the plight of teenagers.

  His mother left us alone together in the living room, though I figured she was listening at the kitchen door. I resolved to speak quietly, as I didn't think any mother would take kindly to me accusing their children of using magic to make people break into places.

  "Hey, aren't you that chick that owns the disco skate?"

  "Amber's employer, yes," I said with as much of a smile as I could muster.

  Silently, I pulled out my phone and showed him the photos I had snapped of him breaking into Frank's magic shop. His eyes widened and then narrowed once he realized what they were.

  "Where did you get those?"

  "Frank has cameras," I said. "Better question: Why have you been bewitching people to break into magical establishments?"

  "Whoa!" He shot out of his seat. "I didn't spell anyone."

  I raised an eyebrow. "It's just a coincidence that someone was forced to rob the very place you visited hours before?"

  "Yes!"

  "You're not exactly known for your discretion with magic— or a regard for the law."

  Though, I couldn't really claim to have the latter, either.

  He ran a hand through his hair, and I imagined it came away slick as oil. "Maybe I use my abilities to get ahead a little— you know, clothes and all that. But I didn't make anyone do anything. That's dark magic."

  He seemed to be sweating and shaking, so I took pity on the kid, remembering when I'd been that young and just starting out with magic. "With magic, one thing always leads to another. I'd remember that, if I were you."

  "Right." He nodded easily, though I didn't fall into the trap of believing it'd be easy. He'd have to learn that magic wasn't free (or easy) on his own.

  I strode over to the door, done with him for the night, though I hadn't completely checked him off my list. Turning back at the last minute, I pinned him with a stare. "And if you smoke in front of Amber again, I'll have my grandma turn you into a toad."

  She'd done that once to her homicidal neighbor. I didn't know where the toad was now, and I was too afraid to ask. But I imagined she wasn't living a happy, warty life somewhere. I would've bet the farm on that.

  When I got back into my car, I didn't immediately head home. The talk of the toad, plus the strikeout with Edward, had led me to a desperate place. It wasn't a good look on me.

  "Gran?" I said into the phone. I couldn't hear her breathing, but that didn't mean she wasn't on the other line.

  "It's not a good idea to bother me tonight, child."

  Th
at chilling warning aside, I said, "I need to talk to you about the cat. Someone tried to steal him."

  A pause. "I'll wait in the foyer." The next thing I heard was the click of her disconnecting.

  "Nice to hear from you, too," I said into the empty space. "What's that? I'm your favorite granddaughter? Oh, how you do go on."

  I pulled up to Grandma's plantation-style home and resisted the urge to shiver at the sight at night. It was nowhere near as creepy as it'd been a couple months ago— mostly thanks to Wyatt. In some strange negotiation between my grandma and him, he'd gotten saddled with removing the vines, mowing, and cleaning this place up in his spare time. It was amusing to watch him sweat away at it from the comfort of a lawn chair.

  She was, indeed, waiting for me in the foyer with her silver hair glowing in the low light and making her look even more stereotypically scary. Sitting in her favorite chair, she surveyed me as I walked through the door.

  When she said nothing, I started the conversation. "So, any idea why someone would want my cat?"

  "No one wants your cat," she said, equal parts amused and annoyed. "It's not a cat."

  "Is it a person turned into a cat?" I asked, the toad-neighbor on my mind.

  "No."

  I sighed, thinking about walking right back out the door. "Thanks. This has been every enlightening."

  "It's a familiar."

  "Like a witch's familiar?"

  She looked at me blandly. "Is there any other kind? They often take the form of cats in the stories, but they can be anything, and are extremely valuable."

  That morning, the "familiar" had barfed all over the kitchen floor and left my pillow a hairy mess. I was halfway wishing someone would take him off my hands. Still, he was awfully fluffy, and I liked that.

  "So, you're saying someone wants to sell my cat?"

  An unladylike snort came from her mouth. "Not everything is about money. A familiar enhances his witch's power— but only his witch. It'd be foolish to try and steal someone else's familiar."

  "There's no way someone else could use my familiar as a power boost?"

  She almost immediately looked uncomfortable, an emotion I didn't usually equate with Grandma. I wondered if that spelled disaster or more information for me.

  "So it is possible."

  "It would take very dark magic, but yes," she said. "When you get to be as old as me, you'll find there are very few impossible things in this world." Her eyes clouded over. "It would be very unfortunate if that were to happen to your familiar."

  "Keep the cat safe; got it."

  I headed toward the door, but stopped before closing it, turning back. Grandma was still sitting there, looking slightly unfocused.

  "Do you have a familiar?"

  "Goodnight, child," she said, and with a flick of her finger, I was pushed out the door and it slammed shut behind me.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, I fed Whale an inordinate amount of food and then checked the note on the fridge for the fifth time, hoping the message would change. Unfortunately, the sticky note still told me to meet Wyatt for lunch with his mother at her restaurant. It seemed I was going to have to have a talk with that man.

  At least he'd taken Cooper to school before I'd woken up. I didn't think I could face his relentless smiling self on this day, the blackest of all mornings.

  Hours before I even had to leave, I tore the closet apart trying to find anything suitable to wear. Charlotte's wasn’t anyplace fancy, so I could've worn jeans. At least, I could've if I wanted Nancy to hate me with even more passion than she already did.

  "How can everything I own be tie-dye, too short, or too tight? What kind of adult am I?"

  Just five minutes before go time, I pulled on a plain black dress reserved for funerals. With colorful shoes, it almost didn't look depressing. Almost.

  When I pulled up, Wyatt opened the door for me, taking the opportunity to pull me close and press his lips to my neck. The sensation made my morning bearable until I saw the expression on Nancy's face as she watched our exchange. Keeping my head held high, I joined her and Wyatt at our usual table.

  This was where he’d taken me on our first date. I tried to hold onto those positive emotions as we went through the motions of a meal. Nancy was nothing but civil to me, but I could see she didn’t have Wyatt fooled either. I almost wished he didn’t know how much his mother didn’t like me.

  I excused myself to the bathroom while we were waiting for dessert, and to my horror, Nancy said she’d accompany me. Sure, girls like company on the way to the bathroom, but I didn’t want to think about guarding my back from any knife threats while I was peeing.

  I stopped just short of going into a stall, because the thought of her listening while I did my business was enough to make me feel as though I'd never go to the bathroom again. Which was ridiculous. I had a long and illustrious past. Part of that past involved a couple of nights (not in a row) in lock-up. In jail, the toilets are out in the open— enough said.

  Instead, I went over to the sink, pretending to pick at the makeup I hadn't put on that morning. Nancy joined me after a moment, pulling out a compact from her purse. Until then, I'd been sure that only people on TV carried around one in their purse. She was like some maternal goddess come to Earth to make me look like crap in comparison.

  "He loves you," she said, taking me by surprise. Her tone was bland enough, but she looked anything but bland.

  "I know."

  "You bring trouble into his life— danger."

  "I know that, too."

  She gave me a shrewd look. "Do you love him?"

  A woman came in, and we ceased conversation for a few minutes, pretending to be engrossed in our reflections. When the door shut behind her, we both turned away from the mirror.

  "A mother worries," she said. "Cooper's mother— she was horrible to him. Tricked him into staying with her."

  I wondered if things were really that black and white in Nancy's mind. Sure, I had no warm and fuzzy feelings toward his ex-wife. Anyone that could abandon a kid as great as Cooper was clearly deranged. But I hadn't known her— though I'd been around while she was still in town— and I couldn't pass judgment. Couldn't pass too much judgment, anyway.

  "Well, I'm not pregnant, and I don't plan on skipping town," I told her. "So, you should have nothing to worry about."

  "There are other ways of hurting a person."

  Without any fanfare, I left the bathroom, heading back toward our table. Nothing between Nancy and I was going to get solved by talking, and I didn't think I could've stayed in that room one more second with her without saying something I'd regret. She already thought I was a mutt and not good enough for her son. Just wait until she found out I had a mouth dirtier than a sailor and very little class.

  "Are you okay?" Wyatt asked me when I sat down, putting down his fork that was still covered with chocolate cake.

  I smiled and took a big bite of my fruity dessert to avoid answering. The look he gave me told me I wasn't nearly as clever as I thought I was. But then again, it's hard to get things past a detective— particularly one who loves you and studies people as a hobby.

  Nancy's butt had barely touched the chair when both of our phones rang.

  I answered mine and heard Mrs. Cruz on the line. "Harper! Thank god, I caught you."

  "What is it? Is Amber okay?" In my other ear, I vaguely heard Wyatt talking to someone down at the station.

  "Amber's fine. I was walking by Mr. Bennett's house, and I saw someone running out the back!"

  "And you called me because you don't have Wyatt's number," I guessed.

  "Oh, Harper, you'll never believe what the little thief was holding!"

  But I thought I could. I caught sight of Wyatt out of the corner of my eye, looking livid. While he had my attention, he mouthed what the phone call had been about. I caught the all-important words "Stink Bomb" and "escaped."

  "He was running off with this big, orange cat!"

&n
bsp; ______

  "I'm gonna kill that little runt."

  Wyatt shook his head. He was sitting on the couch, watching me pass the living room after giving up on comforting me minutes ago. "As a police officer, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

  "Hear what you like," I said. "It's my First Amendment right to say it."

  His lips twitched. "Threats aren't protected under the Constitution."

  "Oh." I considered that, still burning a hole in the carpet from my back and forth motion. "I guess you learn that in college. Maybe I should've gone."

  "College is about partying on Mom and Dad's dime. You didn't miss anything."

  If what he said was true, he was right. I'd done my fair share of partying before settling down in Waresville at the Funky Wheel— if you could call murder cases and missing cats every other week settling down. Plus, there was the fact that I work at a disco skate. Maybe I'd be partying for the rest of my life. There are worse ways to live out seventy odd years.

  "We have to find Whale." I kicked the couch. “He’s my familiar.”

  Wyatt grabbed my elbow on my next pass, pulling me down to sit next to him. "I know. You've said that at least ten times since we got home." His arms were a steadying force around me. "We'll find the cat and Stink Bomb. And I'll personally kick his teeth in for messing with our cat."

  The smile felt a little foreign on my lips. "Our cat?"

  "Until I can convince you to get rid of that dirty creature."

  Before Cooper got home, we put up signs all around town with Whale's description and a citation about this being official police business and to call the station if anyone saw or heard anything. It was probably the first time in history the local police took on a missing cat case, but Wyatt didn't seem the least bit disturbed by this. He just kept putting up flyers and talking to people on the street about my lost orange cat.

  I ran into all the storefronts along the way, ignoring the looks I got for the outfit (funeral dress and skates). When I told them I was looking for a cat for police business, their eyebrows went so high, I wasn't sure they'd ever find them again.