Enchanting Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 3)

by Kennedy Layne

  I should probably take offense to that narrative, but I guess I couldn’t argue. My track record with men wasn’t the best. In all honesty, it might have been the fact that I kept meeting them in bars rather than at the library.

  My mother had always said the worst place to meet a man was in a bar.

  “Mom doesn’t like Liam based solely on the fact that he lives here in Paramour Bay. She doesn’t want me here period.” I pressed the button on my seatbelt and then opened my door. The cozy heat inside immediately escaped with a brief swirling gust of wind, forcing both Heidi and I to move quickly. “You know that she wants me back in the city where she can keep an eye on me. Mom doesn’t want me to have anything to do with her hometown. She associates anything and everything in Paramour Bay with her rejection of witchcraft.”

  Heidi and I both opened the back doors of the Corolla at the same time. The freezing crosswind coming off the bay took my breath away, forcing me to snatch up the files I’d set in the backseat as Heidi grabbed her bag. I closed the door quickly and brought the thick stack of papers to my chest to help ward off the cold.

  A quick glance at Leo’s favorite window told me he wasn’t inside just yet.

  Where had he gone, and what was he doing this late on a Friday night?

  He’d yet to make an appearance after he’d fiddled with the heater on my car. He probably wanted to avoid a lecture, but I wouldn’t give him one this time since he’d fixed it before we’d gotten back in the car for our trip home. Plus, who knows where the conversation with Liam would have ended up if Heidi hadn’t come into the police station when she did?

  Leo had actually done us both a favor.

  “Your mom certainly didn’t take it so well that I’d been included in on the family secret.” Heidi finally joined me with her purse and small suitcase in hand. We fell into step side by side and started for the gate. “Now that I think about it, she hasn’t returned the message I left her.”

  “Give her time,” I suggested, knowing that my mother always came around in the end. “Mom also said that she’d never have anything to do with witchcraft again, but she was the one who helped Leo teach me how to correctly channel the energy I derive from my environment to create the magic I utilize in my spells.”

  I pulled the gate open just as Heidi let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  My heart rate tripled, and I immediately released everything in my hands to take the defensive stance that Heidi and I had learned in a self-defense class we’d taken years ago. My palm immediately began to burn with its need to vanquish whatever we were about to face.

  “Ted!” I admonished, not surprised when the endearing giant revealed a couple of broken teeth in his attempt to smile. “One of these days, I’m going to put a bell on your lapel.”

  “A bell?” Ted asked, taking me seriously. He looked down at his suit jacket in confusion. “I’m not sure it would ring properly against this fabric.”

  I leaned down to gather some of the papers that had slipped out of the manila folders. Liam had been smart to wrap a rubber band around each of the thick files to keep everything in the larger three-part binder. It was the only thing that had saved the majority of the case’s documents from being saturated with the wet snow.

  “Hi, Ted,” Heidi greeted him as she patted him affectionately on the arm after catching her breath. “How are things going?”

  You’re probably wondering who or what Ted is, why I referred to him as a gentle giant, and why he takes everything I say so literally.

  Bottom line?

  Ted came with the house.

  Seriously.

  I inherited him with the house just like the rest of the oddities I’ve received since my arrival here in Paramour Bay.

  I’m not kidding. At first, I’d thought Ted was some type of caretaker who lived in the outbuilding in the backyard. Turns out, he’s a…

  Well, I’m not exactly sure what Ted is.

  He lives in a small shed located adjacent to the water that borders the back of the property. His verbal skills might be limited, but don’t let him fool you. He’s as sharp as a tack. He’s highly intelligent, kind, somewhat naïve, and would do absolutely anything for me without question.

  He’s also close to seven feet tall—okay, more like six feet and six inches—had yellowish blond hair and pale sunken eyes. Between you and me, there’s a good chance he wasn’t human. I kept putting off that discovery, because there was only so much of the supernatural that I could take on any given day.

  “What did you do to Leo?” Ted had taken over holding the gate open. It was rather irritating, but the hinges didn’t squeak when he opened and closed the entrance like it did for everyone else. “He’s been inside meowing and pacing back and forth on the coffee table.”

  Ah, so that’s why Leo wasn’t laying on the windowsill.

  “Leo got upset with Raven when she decided to look into an old murder case that happened some fifty-three years ago,” Heidi shared, finally making her way up the sidewalk. I was right behind her, unable to feel my nose after having been outside for far too long. “Can you believe that Leo even fiddled with the heater in the car so that I would go into the police station after her? I’m thinking Leo knows more than he’s letting on about what happened back then.”

  “Leo always knows more than he lets on, but his short-term memory side effect that came from the dark magic Nan used prevents me from finding out anything very useful.” I’d kept the keys in my hand, so it didn’t take me long to unlock the front door. “I still haven’t had time to look through all the boxes up in the loft. There has to be more about my family history in some of those papers. Ted, do you think you could—”

  Ted was gone.

  He’d snuck off the moment he’d heard about my plan.

  Why?

  Because he’s smarter than your average henchman.

  “Leo, what is going on?” I asked, wondering if he’d remembered something from all those years ago. From my understanding, Ted had only been around for ten years. “And don’t try to get out of this conversation, either.”

  “Ted certainly is quick for such a big guy,” Heidi muttered, looking around the front yard for any sign of the giant. She then closed the front door with a shrug. “Okay. Break out the wine. I’ll go change into my pajamas, and then we can veg on the couch looking through those files. Oh, and don’t upset Leo. He’s my little lover kitty.”

  I love her outlook on life.

  I knew this to be a fact, and I didn’t have the heart to break it to him that Heidi had her sights set on Detective Jack Swanson of the state police. He was escorting Heidi to the New Year’s Eve party at the wax museum, which was liable to break Leo’s heart if he was willing to subscribe to reality.

  “Does Ted know something about the murder?”

  Of course not. He didn’t exist back then.

  Exist?

  Now that was an odd choice of words.

  I bit my tongue to prevent myself from being baited into asking what Leo meant. He’d been waiting months to tell me what Ted was in this supernatural world I’d found myself caught up in, but I wasn’t ready to hear it.

  Instead, I carefully set the files on the entryway table and dropped the car keys in a ceramic bowl next to a matching vase. I’m pretty sure they cost more than what my vintage Corolla was worth.

  Nan liked the finer things in life, and she absolutely adored expensive quality items. I’d discovered her jewelry box just the other day. I’d never sell even one piece of the sets of jewels I’d found hidden away inside, but I did tell my mother about the little collection of treasure. Those types of things should stay within the family, some of which should be my mother’s.

  As for the cottage, well, I hadn’t changed one thing to the interior of Nan’s home. My home, now that I agreed to stay here in Paramour Bay and take over the tea shop. I still had trouble reconciling that all of this was mine, because two months ago I’d been struggling to pay the rent in New York City
.

  To find myself owning a tea shop, a home that was beautiful on the inside, and being left to care for two odd supernatural characters was quite astonishing.

  I’m not odd…exactly. I prefer unique.

  That much was up for debate.

  Anyway, the cottage was technically one level with a bedroom loft over the kitchen and a small root cellar. The modern appliances and furniture were interspersed with antique tables, pestles and mortars, and the most stunning hand-carved coffee table in existence.

  Rosemary is to blame for my flawed personality. I was quite the premium familiar back in my day—a special friend to a powerful practitioner.

  “I don’t doubt it, Leo.” I hung up my dress coat on the antique coat rack next to the entryway table and then began working on taking off my boots. Leo was still pacing back and forth on the coffee table, clearly irritated we were even having this conversation. “You’re like the Encyclopedia Britannica for the supernatural world, although you’re missing a table of contents. Any type of index, for that matter. You were also with Nan during the time of that murder, so you’ve some idea of what transpired back then. Your memories are just locked away, which got me to thinking that—”

  Stop right there, missy. I still haven’t gotten over the tail numbing incident. I’d rather have my whiskers pulled out one by one before allowing you to use another haywire spell on me.

  “But it wouldn’t be black magic,” I reassured him, trying to recall if there was something in Nan’s spell book that could undo the damage done to Leo’s memory. I wiggled my sock-covered toes once both boots were on the mat next to the front door. “I don’t understand why Nan didn’t try it on you after your…traumatic experience.”

  Rebirth? My ascension to a higher form? Just what are you trying to say, Raven?

  I wasn’t going to attempt to describe Leo’s transformation quite like that, but his depictions would suffice for the moment.

  You cannot undo the repercussions left behind by black magic. There are consequences for disturbing the fabric of life. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be called repercussions, now would they?

  “I’m not giving up on retrieving your memories,” I declared before gathering up the files Liam had so graciously given me. “In the meantime, we can go through these crime incident reports to see if we can pick up anything that might clarify Nan’s involvement.”

  She wasn’t found guilty. Is that close enough? Rosemary wasn’t even arrested. Do we really need to dig her up and slap the cuffs on? She’s far past caring about what happened all those years ago. See? There. How simple was that? Your grandmother’s name is clear, and we can move on so you can actually learn something useful.

  “Leo, you and I both know the residents of Paramour Bay believe Nan had something to do with this man’s murder. I mean, it was part of the reason Mom left town and rejected magic.”

  You’re missing the point by a country mile.

  “And what is that?”

  I don’t remember.

  I couldn’t help but smile when Leo’s memory loss came into play once more.

  “Wine time!” Heidi had come down the spiral staircase that led up to the loft where she’d gotten changed into a pair of pajamas that she’d had for as long as I could remember. The vibrant cyan color had faded into a light baby blue. “Are you two still arguing about Rosemary’s involvement?”

  “We’re not arguing.”

  Debatable.

  “I was explaining why I believe it’s important that we solve this old case.” I left the files beside Leo and walked over to the counter. I took a seat on one of the stools while Heidi retrieved two wine glasses. “Leo doesn’t believe we should look into the files, which tells me that Norman Palmer’s murder might have had something to do with witchcraft.”

  “Have you thought of the alternative? That there might be a chance that your grandmother actually was the one who killed Norman Palmer?”

  Heidi gently set a bottle of red wine next to the crystal glasses, clearly waiting for my answer.

  Have you?

  Both Heidi and Leo were now baiting me to say aloud what I adamantly refused to believe of my grandmother—that she could be a cold-blooded murderer.

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t keep my eyes open,” Heidi declared dramatically with a groan, flopping back on the couch in a theatrical pose designed to demonstrate her level of exhaustion. “What time is it?”

  “Almost one o’clock in the morning. Well past witching hour.” I rubbed my eyes, hoping to ease the stinging sensation that had begun over an hour ago. “I think you’re right. We should just go to bed and get a fresh start in the morning.”

  After reading through the reports that Liam had so graciously allowed me to look over for the weekend, I’d attempted a spell to recall the few moments before Norman Palmer’s death.

  Unfortunately, the incantation hadn’t worked and all I could picture was…well, I think it might have been water. Technically, it was a rippling darkness. It would certainly make sense given that Norman’s cause of death had been officially ruled as a drowning by the county coroner.

  For once—okay, maybe Leo had done it twice before—he had praised my efforts, telling me that I’d done the spell perfectly.

  That was the thing with magic. One couldn’t always count on the results he or she would obtain. It was more of an art than a science.

  Leo had explained that the surrounding environment at the time of Norman’s death could have affected the vision I expected to see. Events like recent electrical storms or meteor showers could cloud the results, just as bright sunny days could amplify the duration of my sight.

  So why couldn’t I see past the darkness?

  “I don’t get it, though.” Heidi gathered the file she’d had in her lap and tossed it to the floor before turning on her side. I’d chosen to sit in front of the fireplace for the additional warmth, though the remaining flames were barely swaying above the cindered block of Hawthorn. It was a good slow-burning wood that provided plenty of heat. “Your grandmother was six months pregnant with your mom when Norman Palmer was murdered, yet she went out on three dates with him during the two weeks that he was in town. Maybe your biological grandfather found out and it made him angry. It’s a track we haven’t considered. The question is if it made him mad enough to kill.”

  The townsfolk assumed the meals Rosemary shared with Norman Palmer were dates.

  I swung my startled gaze up slightly to where Leo was stretched out on the top of the couch behind Heidi. His eyes were most of the way closed, though the left couldn’t shut all the way due to its enlarged nature. He’d been quiet for the last hour, so I had assumed that he was still sleeping. He hadn’t commented once while Heidi and I were combing through the crime reports.

  “Do you remember something specific, Leo?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to scare away any memories that he might be recalling in his sleepy haze. “Was Norman in town to see Nan because of her special herbal remedies?”

  Heidi pulled a funny face as she slowly looked over her shoulder, also realizing that Leo’s recollections could be quite precarious.

  Norman came to town to see Rita Carter, not Rosemary.

  “Who is Rita Carter?” I quickly picked up the yellow pad of paper that I’d written every name down in association with the murder investigation. A one Rita Carter was not listed. “Leo, she was never interviewed by Otis or the state police.”

  Would you look at that? Could I have just given you a break in the case?

  Leo literally had a Cheshire grin gradually appear underneath his twisted whiskers.

  I do remember a few things from that time long ago. Yes. Yes. It’s all coming back to me now.

  “What do you remember, Leo?” I shifted so that I was on my knees, eagerly awaiting the next words to drip from his crooked fangs. I then rested my elbows on the coffee table as I concentrated on Nan’s familiar, who had a wealth of information stored in that tiny feeble br
ain of his. We just needed to figure out a way to get to it. I attempted to coax him a bit more. “Was Rita a local?”

  Oh, yes. She was quite revered back then, you know.

  Leo reached forward with both paws and sank his claws into the microfiber of the couch as he stretched his back and his awkwardly bent tail. It was clear that he was very pleased with himself, especially when he purposefully sat in a regal position.

  Rita Carter was Alison Bend’s mother. She used to own the town’s wax museum.

  “Why wasn’t this listed in the reports? You can’t tell me that Otis didn’t know about the connection between Norman and Rita.” I automatically reached for my glass of wine, but it was long since empty. Even though I was currently experiencing a shot of adrenaline, I wasn’t about to open up another bottle this late in the evening. “Do you know why Norman came to town to see Rita?”

  Fred.

  “Fred?”

  Fred.

  “Who’s Fred?” I asked, obviously needing to clarify the reason I’d repeated the name in the first place.

  You know Fred?

  “Leo, I don’t know who Fred is,” I exclaimed, unable to hide my exasperation. “That’s why I’m asking you who he is.”

  I don’t remember. What were we talking about?

  I let my head fall to my arms in defeat. I stayed draped over the coffee table until Heidi broke the silence.

  “I’m just throwing this out there, but is there a spell for me to be able to hear Leo?” Heidi asked, laying back down on the couch and rubbing her temples. “The two of you give me a headache listening to one side of your conversations.”

  “Maybe there’s a Fred on the suspect list,” I muttered, finally sinking back on my heels and reaching for my trusty yellow pad of paper. “Fred, Fred, Fred…nope. No Rita or Fred.”