He blinked at her and stared for a few seconds. “Wait, you mean the guy with the fedora?”
“That’s the one. Did he create a card or sign in?”
“No,” Tad shook his head. “But he left a business card.” He pulled out a drawer and moved things around. I spotted one of Melody’s cards in there and smiled. Tad moved that card and grabbed the card under it and handed it to Cassandra. “He was a bookseller. Wanted to know who handled our distribution out here.”
“And?” Cassandra handed the card to Ginger.
“And I told him he’d have to talk to you about that. But you were on your office on a call.”
Cassandra smiled at the two of them. “There you go. Maybe this guy can help?”
“Thank you, Cassandra,” David said as he shook her hand.
She and Ginger hugged and the two of them walked out of the library. Ginger was quiet until they got back to his car. Once the door shut she turned and held the card up. “This guy’s a bookseller.”
“That’s what your friend said,” David took the card and read the name. “Rare Finds, Charles Willmington. Says he lives in Raleigh.”
She shook her head.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Just…something feels weird.”
“Weird,” he prompted as he turned the car out onto the road. “You have a sixth sense?”
“You could say that. But really,” she turned in her seat to face him as he drove. “Why was a wi—a stranger looking for a rare book in the library here? In Castle Falls? Most people don’t even know this place exists.”
“Good place for a book to hide.”
“Maybe. Or for someone to hide it. Either way, it sounds like he was certain it was here.”
“And when he didn’t find it, he attacked the librarian. Seems pretty standard. People always attack the messenger.”
“Yeah,” Ginger said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “I think it’s more than that. And why get into an argument with a bookseller like Mr. Willmington? Unless he was looking for the same book?”
“His card says seller.”
“Yeah but sellers have to buy before they sell. They have to acquire. What if Willmington took the book and Manchester knew it?”
David glanced at her. “I think that’s a leap of magnificent proportions. Maybe you should eat and think about it later. Besides, we don’t even know where Mr. Willmington is staying, or if he’s still here.”
She held up the card. “There’s a cell number here. I can call him.” She picked up her bag and searched through it. “Och…bluebells. I must’ve left my phone at Mama D’s.”
“Then it’s settled. Food first. I’m going to run by the store and pick up a dessert. Want to help me pick it out?”
Ginger gave him a sideways grin. “Okay. But I only like chocolate things.”
“Chocolate it is.”
SIX
I kept my cool as we shopped for a dessert. It amazed me at how comfortable I felt around David Flanagan. And that scared me. We’d just met this morning and yet here we were, strolling around Magpies & Muffins, a local bakery and coffee shop, picking out a chocolate pie.
I also felt a bit nervous since this particular bakery—the best in Castle Falls—was owned by my granny’s arch Nemesis.
“Well, well, well. I don’t believe it. One of Mama Donahue’s brood has wandered into the lion’s den.”
And there she was, standing behind the counter where her only other employee, a sweet high-school kid named Jared, had been standing seconds earlier.
Mavis Mulroney, the matriarch of one of the founding families of Castle Falls. She and Mama D were close to the same age though Mavis had always looked at least ten years younger. I asked Mama D about that once, and her response had surprised me.
“Mavis and I don’t play by the same rule book.”
It also confused me. I had no idea what she meant by that.
Mavis was medium height, a bit round here and there, with long gray hair she kept in a braid around the crown of her head. She had a youngish face, with sharp dark eyes and a permanent smirk. Power pulsed from her in a constant, dull thud that gave me a headache at the base of my skull. I never spent much time around Mavis if I could help it. And I wouldn’t have suggested we pick up a pie from Magpies & Muffins if it wasn’t the best in town.
I kinda wondered sometimes if the food wasn’t…you know…hexed, or something. Her cream puffs were addictive. I’d binged on them enough in my teens.
I didn’t know what the deal was between Mama D and Mavis. I only knew the two tolerated each other and were occasionally civil. I wasn’t sure where things were at the moment because I’d been living in California.
I smiled at Mavis and gave her a sample of my dad’s Blackstone charm. “Hello Mavis! I hope you’re doing well this afternoon?”
Mavis gave me the hairy eyeball before she looked at David. “And who might you be?”
David also flashed her a smile and offered her his hand over the counter. “Dr. David Flanagan. I took over last month for Dr. Hanover.”
“Ah. Right. I heard about you.” She glanced at me. “And you’ve already met the Blackstones.”
“Yes. I’ve met Mama Donahue and her lovely granddaughter.” He shook her hand and I wondered if it felt as limp and cold as it looked. If David had a problem, he didn’t show it. “And I’ve heard Magpies & Muffins has the best desserts in the whole town.”
“Really?” Mavis puffed up a bit and focused her attention on David. Fine by me. “Well, that is the truth. So, what can I interest you in?”
I became the parsley, that on-the-side green that no one knows what to do with. I used to play with it when I was a kid, when mom took us to Shoney’s for lunch. I would put them in my mashed potatoes and called my masterpiece Trees In Snow.
As he sweet-talked Mavis, I looked around the shop. It was nice. A fresh coat of paint, and it looked like the floor tiles had recently been replaced as well. The front window had a nice painting of pies and muffins on it, per her logo and shop name. Four small round tables dotted the front with wire-framed chairs around them. A coat tree stood in the far left corner beside a cork-board Mavis kept up for locals to stick up cards and flyers.
I meandered to the cork-board to have a look. Puppies for sale…oooh. No. Car washes…that would be hard to do with the onset of Fall. Business cards. Many of the names I recognized as the owners of local businesses. It was a great way to—
Oh, my stars!
Right in front of me was Charles Willmington’s card. I pulled the one I had out of my bag and compared the two. They were the same.
“Ginger?” David called out.
I spun around to face him. He had a pie in his hands and held it out for me to come see. I moved around the chairs and smiled. “That looks incredible.”
“It’s three chocolates.” He looked at Mavis as if to ask her to approve what he was saying. “White Chocolate, milk chocolate and dark chocolate.”
Mavis nodded and beamed.
I figured, since she was in a good mood with David’s praises, I’d chance asking. “Mavis—you’ve got a card over there from a Charles Willmington. Did you meet him?”
Of all the reactions I expected to see on Mavis’ face, deer-caught-in-the-headlights was not one of them. I couldn’t think of a time I’d ever seen Mavis Mulroney caught off-guard. Until now.
“H-How—” She stuttered. “How do you know Charles Willmington?”
David looked from Mavis to me, so I put my hand on his arm, then took it right back because there was a definite electric charge. What was so unique about him that always reacted this way with me? I decided concentrating on Mavis was a good idea. “Well, as you know a man was found dead in Mama D’s shop—”
“She got arrested for that,” Mavis said in a voice that proved to me anything negative about Mama Donahue was a mood enhancer for her.
“And cleared,” I instantly corrected. “The man she fought wi
th in front of witnesses was not the man who died.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Who’s the dead man?”
There was something in Mavis’ tone that made wonder if she knew about the Familiar Hunter. After all, Mavis Mulroney was a witch. She too had a Familiar. A fat, orange cat named Jinxy.
Jinxy was just as mean as her witch.
“His name was Hardin Manchester,” David said.
Mavis frowned. “I don’t know that name.”
“But you do know Mr. Willmington,” I said with a smile.
She glared at me. “Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t.”
I shrugged. “He was seen arguing with Mr. Manchester outside of the library the day before he died. So it might be the Sheriff will want to talk to him. If you know where he is,” I stood close to David. “I’m sure Sheriff Danvers would be appreciative.”
Everyone knew about Mavis’ crush on Sheriff Danvers. Even Sheriff Danvers. And he swore he’d never have anything to do with the Mulroneys of Castle Falls.
But Mavis didn’t know that.
She eyed the two of us a few seconds. David pointed to the pie, now resting on the counter. “I’d like to buy this.”
Mavis boxed the pie, rang it up at the register, and took David’s cash without a word. Then, “He’s staying at the Castle Falls Inn.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched through a door behind the counter and slammed it shut.
We stood there a few seconds before David pivoted to me. “You have a way with people in this town.”
“It’s because I’m a wi—” I stopped myself. This self-editing was getting tiresome. I didn’t know how much David Flanagan knew about Castle Falls, or about the unique individuals who lived here. And I didn’t know a lot about him. I just knew he was different. But I didn’t know in what way.
It was time to find out.
“Let’s get back to Mama D’s,” I said and led him out of Magpies & Muffins.
Mama D had the house lit up in every room, which I knew she would. Fireflies danced in the resurfacing garden as we walked around the house to the entrance. David stopped by the stone fence and stared. “That’s not normal,” he pointed to the garden. “Flowers like this don’t bloom in the Fall, and fireflies are rare here.”
“Yeah,” I said, but didn’t give him an explanation.
Not yet.
We stepped inside and the house smelled like an Italian restaurant. The garlic was both pungent and intoxicating. Mama D had made garlic bread! Max appeared out of nowhere and did a figure eight between my ankles. “Hello there dear,” I said as I bent over and gave him a good hard scratch behind his ears. His purrs took on the sound and volume of a twin engine airplane.
“Is that the same cat who followed you into the Sheriff’s station?” David said.
“Yeah. You didn’t meet him earlier. David, this is Max. Max, this is David.”
To my surprise, Max leapt up at that moment and artfully attached himself to my shoulder and arm, then maneuvered around on my shoulder so his face stuck out from my hair on the left, his tail flicked back and forth on the right. He looked like a cat stole.
“How long have you had him?” David said.
“About eight hours,” I replied truthfully. I set my bag down and carefully unwound the cat from my shoulders. “Slow down there, Max. We barely know each other. And your wi—master hasn’t been gone that long.”
“So you’re taking care of him?”
I put Max back on the floor and he bounded back up the steps. “You could say that.”
“Oh dear,” David said as he stepped into the kitchen behind me. “Mama Donahue, you have outdone yourself.”
And she had.
Granny had actually set the large, eight-person table in the dining room just off the kitchen and beside the stairs. A red table cloth, good silverware, water glasses, china…and in the center sat my lasagna. Beside it sat two baskets full of garlic bread. Mama D had even grated parmesan cheese into a bowl!
She took the pie from David and told us to sit down. The three settings were at the end of the table, so I sat to the right of the end chair, and David sat to the left, facing me. Mama D joined us, carrying two bottles of…sparkling grape-juice.
It was her favorite. And though I would have preferred a nice red wine, I wasn’t going to fuss. David poured everyone’s drink.
“Hands,” Mama D said. We took each other’s hands. David and I reached across the table. And again there was that electric shock. Though this time it felt like a current that ran from him to me to Mama D and back to him. “Oh Lady Darksome, Oh Divine. Bless this mess and bless this rhine. Bestow upon us health, wisdom, and wealth, the divine three, and as we do will, so mote it be.”
“So mote it be,” I said and when I let go of David’s hand, the spinning current stopped. Oh, there was definitely something interesting about this man. Besides the fact he was to-die-for gorgeous.
David placed a napkin in his lap. “That was an interesting prayer.”
“I bet it was,” Mama D said before she finished an entire glass of sparkling grape juice.
David refilled her glass. “You know, I’ve only heard that kind of prayer once before.”
“Oh?” I said as I grabbed a piece of garlic bread and bit into it. Crispy, toasted outside, buttery, garlicky goodness inside.
“It was when I visited New Orleans.” David took the spatula and cut into the lasagna. “There was a coven there. Invited me in for a night on Samhain,” he continued as he scooped up squares and set one on each plate. Mama D and I had stopped in the middle of what we were doing—I had bread in my mouth, she had her glass to her lips—as he spoke. Our gazes fixed on him. “It was right before a Sabbat meal.”
With that, he looked at the two of us and started eating.
I looked at Mama D. She looked at me, shrugged, and then drank half of her glass.
I decided that talk with David was necessary now. “So David, there’s something I need to tell you about us. About the Donahues and Blackstones….”
“You’re Witches,” and he wiped his lips with a napkin. “It didn’t take rocket science to figure it out. Miss Rosepurse mentioned it at the station, then that woman at the library—”
“Mildred Thumper.”
Mama D made a rude noise.
“And then there were the times you started to say witch and stopped.” He smiled at me. “It’s okay, Ginger. Given the condition of the garden outside and the way the greenery is growing in this house,” he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “I’d say you were a natural Hedge Witch.”
Mama D looked at me. “I like him.”
I glared at her.
Mama D looked at David. “And what exactly are you?”
I was glad granny asked it. Because I was too embarrassed to ask.
He smiled and put his napkin down. “It’s not that obvious?”
“I know you’re not quite human,” Mama D said. “Not with the way you generated that current when we held hands.”
I did a mental “whew” because Mama D had felt that too! It wasn’t just my imagination.
“So?” She prompted. “What are you? Cause you’re not a Witch.”
“No. Not a Witch.” He looked between the two of us. “I’m a—”
“Vampire!” Burt shouted out as he sailed into the room and then perched on the back of Mama D’s chair.
Mama D and I looked at David with wide eyes. “You’re a vampire?” I blurted out.
David looked shocked. “How did you know? I didn’t even say.”
“Burt did,” Mama D said.
“Who’s Burt?” David stared at the bat and pointed. “Is that Burt?”
“That’s Mama D’s Familiar.”
David looked at me. “And he told you? That ear-splitting shriek he let out?”
So apparently Burt didn’t trust David enough to let him hear words. All David heard was the screech of a bat. “Yeah. He said you
were a vampire.” I smiled. “I’ve never met a vampire before. But I guess the rumors are true you guys aren’t afraid of the sun anymore.”
“Or garlic,” Mama D said from her seat, still eye-balling David.
He laughed and for the first time, I could see his fangs. They weren’t very long. Maybe they grew when he got hungry? “I love garlic. Always have. And sunshine doesn’t have the sort of hold it once did. It was an adaption, I guess. I haven’t been a vampire very long.”
“How long?”
“A hundred years.”
Mama D held up her hands and looked at me. “Oh, just a hundred years.”
I glared at her, hoping she got the idea to be quiet. “So…a hundred years. Could you always be in the sun? Eat garlic?”
“Yes and yes. Not all of us are the dark-imprisoned, blood-sucking monsters you read in books or see in movies. As a race, we’re longer lived. We do drink blood if we’re badly wounded. We’re stronger than the average human. Our senses are enhanced.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “But there is a talent I have that not all vampires have. I can shift.”
My smile showed teeth it was so wide. “You…you can shift? I didn’t know vampires could do that!”
“Not all of us. Only those with the sun’s tolerance. I don’t have to drink blood unless I want to use my powers.” He held out his hands. “So there you go.”
Mama D stared at him for a while, then looked at me. “He can stay. But the cat has got to go.”
Max jumped into my lap at that moment and peaked his head over the table, eye-balling my lasagna. “Oh no,” I said gently and put him back on the floor. “That will tear your stomach up. You shouldn’t—”
My cell phone rang in my bag. I knew it was rude to just get up and answer it, but with what was happening, I figured I could make this exception. I pushed my seat back and stood, and to my surprise, David stood as well. “I’ll be right back.”
I fished the phone from my bag. The caller was unknown. “Hello?”
“Ginger Blackstone?”
“Speaking? Who’s this?”
“This is Charles Willmington. Listen, you need to stop asking a lot of questions and talk to me. Tonight. Cause you’re gonna get yourself killed if you’re not careful.”
The Book Of Ill Deeds: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Witches Of Castle Falls 1) Page 5
