by Sofia Belle
“I just wanted to buy one fudgin' rose,” Layla said. “But this kid here is saying I can't. We were gonna stop by Dungeons and Donuts, and I was gonna drop off a rose for Andy. Why can't I buy a stupid rose?”
Cris stepped between Layla and the flowers, looking flustered. “I said she could buy one, but I can't do the transactions back here. You gotta go to the front, through Eva. I’m not allowed to accept cash.”
Eva waved a hand. “I appreciate you following the rules, Cris, but this is an exception. Layla is family. Just give her a rose, no need to pay.” She winked. “In fact, give her half a dozen. It's thanks to these two that we get to decorate the biggest wedding of the season. Imagine the exposure!”
“You don't even need the exposure,” I said, trying to break the awkward silence as Cris made no move to hand Layla a rose. “What if I bought some tulips, or those bleeding hearts, Layla? You can give them to Andy.”
“No!” She crossed her arms. “I want a rose, and I said I'd pay for it. I don't want to get friend-zoned by giving Andy the wrong flower. Tulips are friend-zone flowers. Roses spell romance.”
“Give her a few roses, Cris,” Eva said, her voice firm. “Any of them are fine. We weren't going to sell them today, anyway.”
“But—” Cris pushed the stack of roses he'd been sorting away from him. “Fine. There are a few yellow ones over there.”
“I'm not trying to tell him he's a sunshine,” Layla retorted. “I want a red rose full of love. The more love the better.”
“Here.” Eva pushed past Cris, the irritation now evident in her voice. “Six of them, will that work?”
“Thank you.” Layla collected the roses and then dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Cripes, was that so hard, kid?”
“I apologize,” Eva said. “It won't happen again.”
I ushered Layla out of the store and then turned back to face Eva.
“I'm sorry,” I mouthed, and she mouthed an apology right back.
“Layla, I can't take you on business trips with me if you're going to act like that,” I said. “We have to be professional with the vendors. It's not like this town has a zillion flower shops to choose from. There is one. I wouldn't have very successful weddings without flowers. So next time, no scene, okay? We can pick flowers ourselves if we need to, or buy Andy a cake.”
“Andy doesn't want cake,” Layla grumped. “He works at a donut shop. And anyway, the kid didn't have to be so rude. I wasn't trying to steal anything.”
“No matter,” I said. “Let's stop by the police station on the way to Dungeons and Donuts.”
“Can’t we go straight to the donut shop?” Layla dipped her head into the gorgeous display of roses. “I don't want these to wilt.”
“I've ordered Whitman's flowers enough times to know that they're sturdy; they won't wilt during the few minutes we have to run in and out of the station. I want to drop off the note and the donut bag. Speaking of, let me call Hailey to see if she’ll vouch for our story.”
Layla took another deep inhalation of the roses. “These are something else. A human touch did not grow these flowers.”
“No surprises there,” I said, smiling at my friend. She seemed a bit starry eyed with her roses, and I realized that her display back at the store was probably just a typical side effect from being blinded by love. Or lust. Or whatever it was that Layla felt for Andy Sweet. “We'll get those flowers to Andy, I promise. Now, I'm going to give Hailey a quick call before we get to the police station.”
“Don't worry, I'll just sit here smelling the sweet, sweet scent of these flowers. Maybe it'll make me appear extra attractive to Andy. You think?”
I looked at her while hitting speed dial. Number seven on my speed dial was always the bride whose wedding I was planning at the current moment—it just made things easier to remember, especially when we had to talk so often. “I don't think you need any extra magic. You're great just how you are.”
Layla beamed, pretending to fawn over the flowers like Miss America.
I forced myself to control my laughter as Hailey picked up. I quickly told her the situation, or what I could of it, and asked if she'd be able to help. Hailey was more than excited to contribute, especially when I promised that it might help us find whoever was behind Linda's murder.
“You want me to say she left a bag at my house? No problem,” she said. “I even have an extra one lying around that is totally Linda's style, if they come asking.”
“Good, that's perfect,” I said. “Okay, I'm at the station, so I'm going to have to let you go. Thanks for everything, Hailey. Oh, and I ordered the flowers. Your day is going to be beautiful this weekend, I promise you.”
Hailey thanked me again, and we hung up on a positive note. I whistled a tune as I parked behind the chief's personal-use car, a truck that was half the size of Fairyvale. Rosie liked to joke that once he stepped foot in the car, he was halfway home.
“All right, stop smelling the roses for a second, and let's drop these off quick.” I stepped out of the car and waited for Layla, humming a little ditty that sounded mysteriously like “Here Comes the Bride” as I shut the door.
The week leading up to a wedding was always the most stressful, but once the biggest tasks had been accomplished—flowers, cakes, dresses—I tended to get just as excited as the bride, if not more so. My curse might prevent me from enjoying a love life of my own, but with my job, I was able to live vicariously through one love story after another.
“Layla, come on,” I said. “If you sit in there all day, the flowers will wilt. Which is saying something, because Eva's flowers last upward of two weeks.”
Another ten seconds, and I stopped whistling.
I bent over to peer in the car window, a frown on my face. “Layla, I'm going in without you—”
My words were cut short by a shriek—a shriek that sounded like an otherworldly sort of yell. It took a few seconds for me to realize that the scream was coming from my own lips. And when it finally clicked, I rushed around the car in a dreamlike state, shouting for help and unlocking the door to the passenger's side.
By the time it swung open, the chief and one or two members of his team had rushed outside. I hardly noticed the others gathering around, talking to me, asking questions, trying to guide me out of the way.
But I didn’t move. The only thing I could focus on was the limp figure in front of me. Layla.
Her head lay buried in the flowers, her face pale and bloodless.
Before my eyes, her lips started to turn a greenish color.
Poison.
Chapter 15
** **
Thank God for small miracles. Because our town was so miniscule on the map, nothing was considered far away, but the hospital and the police station were exceptionally close together. Whoever had possessed the foresight to build the hospital, the jail, and the police station all on the same block had been a lifesaver, quite literally.
It didn't take more than a few minutes for the chief and his cohorts to load Layla onto a stretcher and wheel her next door to the hospital. I followed, elbowing everyone out of the way.
The chief tried to pull me away more than once, telling me they could handle it, that the doctors and nurses would take the best care of Layla.
It didn't work; nothing worked. For my job, I often had to be flexible and make compromises. I'd argue it was one of the most important skills a wedding planner could have in order to keep all parties happy.
However, there was no balancing act happening when it came to my friends. In fact, I felt like all of the stubbornness I’d saved up over the years, all of the times I'd bitten my tongue in front of clients, all of the times I'd held back a retort—all of that frustration was coming out now, and I let loose a stream of colorful words on anyone who tried to tear me away from Layla's side.
By the time we reached Layla’s designated hospital room, I'd probably offended most of the hospital staff, seeing how they'd all but given up trying
to get me away from Layla's side. I don't remember what I said. I don't remember shoving the chief away or telling the surgeon that I was Layla's sister. All I remember was staying with her, holding her hand, watching as they finally tore me away as she went into the ER.
“I thought you might need this.” The chief sidled up to me and extended a cup of coffee. “She's going to be okay, you know that?”
I gave a weak smile and accepted the coffee, mostly because I didn't know what else to do with my hands. I could hardly keep my face pointed in his direction, since I was too busy looking toward the swinging door that separated Layla from me.
“They got her here in time.” The chief's eyes were full of sympathy. “I hate to say it, but it's rather lucky—she’s suffering from the same poison used to kill Linda, and there’s an antidote on hand.”
“You know that?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I have it from a good source that it's likely the same poison. The same side effects, the same chemicals that they can detect in an initial scan.” He paused. “You know, Linda wouldn't have died, either, if we'd gotten to her right away. But she was too far away from the hospital, and she'd suffered a much higher dose of the poison. If I had to guess, the poison used on Layla was less concentrated. We’ll save her.”
“Save her,” I echoed. “This whole thing is my fault.”
“It's not.” The chief shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It's not your fault, Bel. How could you have known?”
“I ordered flowers from Whitman’s. I brought her there in the first place,” I said. “I was just giving her a hard time for making a stink about a few roses in the store, and then...” I shook my head. “She was just trying to bring Andy some flowers to brighten his day.”
The chief gave a wry laugh. “Well, I'm guessing he's probably glad that he wasn't around to receive the flowers, judging by the effects they had on Layla.”
My shoulders stiffened. “He's still out there.”
“Who, Andy?” The chief shook his head. “He'll probably make his way over to the hospital when he hears. If you like, I can give him a call. Were he and Layla dating? I hadn't heard.”
“No, no, not him.” I turned wide eyes on him. “In the craziness of the last fifteen minutes, I haven't thought once about the person behind the poison. The flowers.”
“We imagine it was the flowers,” the chief said. “But there are other possibilities.”
“Donuts,” I murmured. “She also ate donuts today. And I haven't called Madrina. Or Rosie. Or Andy. I...Chief, I have to go.”
“I know this sounds like terrible advice, but you need to calm down, Bel. Relax. Stay here, sit outside, let me take care of it. I've already sent men out to scour the town. The best. It's safest for you, and the smartest plan. You’ll be the most help here.”
“No.” My head began shaking of its own accord and just never stopped. “No, that's not true.”
The chief opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by a loud crack in the room next door. He turned around just as I closed my eyes. I knew that sound all too well. But the chief—I still didn't know if he was part of the magical side of things or not. If he knew about us witches, he kept that knowledge quiet.
“What in the world?” He inched toward the room across the hall. Based on the sign outside the door, the office belonged to Dr. Padito. The chief raised his hand, ready to knock on the door. As his knuckles neared the wood, the door swung open from the inside, and out tottered Madrina.
She tilted her head sideways and shook it up and down, as if getting water out of her ear. “Crash landing in there.”
“How?” The chief turned his gaze up and down the hallway, looking for a back entrance, side entrance, or stairwell of some sort, if I had to guess. “How did you get inside?”
“Don't ask,” I interrupted. “She's a kook. Probably got lost and stumbled into the wrong room looking for Layla, right, Madrina?”
My fairy godmother stuck her finger inside her ear and wiggled it around a bit. “Sure, whatever you say, dear.”
My fists clenched, but I kept quiet. The rules for fairy godmothers using magic in public spaces were a bit more lackadaisical than for us normal witches, but that still didn't mean it was looked upon favorably. It was best they didn't use magic at all in public, and if it was absolutely necessary, they should do their best to keep things quiet. Madrina cracking around the hospital halls wasn't exactly subtle.
“How's she doing?” Madrina looked at the two of us. “Feels like she's better to me, but then again I'm not a doctor.” She winked.
The chief probably thought she was crazy, all optimistic and happy as her niece was newly hospitalized. For the purposes of keeping up non-magic pretenses for the rest of the town, all three of us girls explained to anyone who cared that Madrina was our aunt.
I raised an eyebrow. “She is in the ER right now getting examined. They think it was poison.”
“Oh, I know it’s poison, but it’s not fatal.” Madrina shrugged her robes higher onto her shoulders. “She’ll be sassing off her troublesome mouth to the doctors in no time.”
“Madrina!” I chastised her for the chief’s sake, but internally my spirit was jumping for joy.
Madrina’s blatant reassurance that Layla would be fine did more to soothe my worries than anything the doctors might say. Fairy godmothers had an almost umbilical cord–like attachment to their godchildren. If Layla’s vitals were heading in the wrong direction, Madrina would know, and she’d do something about it. Madrina might be snarky as sin and more irreverent than was healthy, but when it came to Rosie, Layla, and me, she’d do whatever it took to keep us safe.
“In fact, I think she’s probably waking up right now.” Madrina gave a salute to the chief and turned to me. “I’m going to wait here, seeing how I brought her a pair of my famous frog legs that’ll help her recover from the embarrassment of being wheeled inside the hospital.”
“Ma’am, there’s nothing embarrassing about being wheeled into the hospital.” The chief made his first mistake by speaking up. His second mistake was contradicting Madrina.
“Don’t you ma’am me,” she snarled. “What, do I look old to you?”
“No, uh, no.” The chief shook his head. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”
My godmother gave him a stare so deadly I worried that she might just jinx him then and there in the middle of the room, Council laws or not.
Then, just as suddenly, she turned to me and her face morphed into a smile, perky as the sunrise. “Don’t you have some place to be?”
It took me a beat to understand her meaning. Then it dawned on me all at once. She wants me to go after the person who did this to Layla. Madrina might be bound by godmother laws not to hurt another soul, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help find justice for her goddaughter.
“I have to call Rosie,” I said to the chief. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Don’t go doing something stupid now, Bel,” the chief said, a warning in his eye. “I have my men on it. They’re headed to the flower shop now. I sent a team to the donut shop, too, and a group up to the Monroe mansion. We’ve got it covered.”
“Okay,” I smiled. “Like I said, I’m going to call Rosie.”
Madrina cackled with delight, and the chief gave us both a disapproving stare.
“I have a peace offering,” I said. “Something we found in Linda’s belongings.”
“The police collected Linda’s belongings.” The chief narrowed his eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“Do you want it or not?” Last minute, I decided not to involve Hailey in my story. I pulled out the note and the donut bag but kept them behind my back. “These things are most likely useless, but I want you to have them anyway.”
The chief crooked an eyebrow up then gave a slow nod. “Thank you.”
I handed over the goods, told the chief he might want to send an extra team to the donut shop just in case, and g
ave Madrina a hug. “Tell Layla I say hello.”
“Go get ’em, girl,” she whispered back. “And remember it good, so you can give me all the details.”
I nodded. But as I headed out of the hospital, my hands shook. I had a good idea that the flowers had caused the poisoning, but that left two main options: Eva or that assistant of hers. I wanted to believe it wasn’t Eva. Then again, I wanted to believe nobody was capable of poisoning another human being.
But sometimes, as I knew so well, happily ever after wasn’t meant to be.
Chapter 16
** **
“Layla needs help,” I said into the phone as I whipped across town toward the flower store. On the other end of the line, I could hear Rosie breathing heavily, as if she'd started walking at a fast clip. “Where are you?”
“I'm in town. I just grabbed a coffee,” she said. “I heard about Layla.”
I frowned as I made a left onto a side street. “Who did you hear from?”
Rosie heaved another breath into the phone.
Then at once, we both responded. “Madrina.”
“I should have known,” I said. “She just showed up at the hospital. But I have to go run an errand. Are you going to the hospital?”
“Don't feed me those lies about you running errands.” Rosie gave a disgruntled huff. “You're not running errands while Layla's in the hospital. You're going after whoever did this. I want to help.”
“No, the police are on it. I'm just going...” I hesitated. “To make sure they do a good job.”
“Right.” I could almost hear Rosie's eyes rolling in their sockets. “Whatever you say. How can I help? When Madrina told me about Layla, she said to help you. So here I am, helping you. Do you want me to join wherever you're going?”
“Hang on, you said you're at the coffee shop?”
“Just finishing a latte. My car's at the office, but I can be back in a minute or two.”
“No,” I said as an idea formed in my head. “I need you to do something else. If you want to help.”
Rosie agreed again, and I gave her instructions to head over to Dungeons and Donuts.
