Shifting and Bewitching (Enchanted Shores Book 1)

by Carrie de Croix

"Okay." She must've been very upset. What had Cormac asked her?

  "What were you doing back there?" He pointed at the office door.

  "I just went into Marcy's office to see if I could find the name of the Shaggy Puppy’s owner. I should call them about the search warrant, but I don't know who to call."

  "I'll take care of that. The DA has asked us to wait for a search warrant, and so we are. We'll be back here this afternoon."

  "Do you need me to stay until they get here?"

  "No, but I'll call you, and you can come back when we're ready. For now, we might as well sit down and talk."

  Cormac walked into the break room. I followed. The mini-fridge hummed and the coffeemaker still had yesterday's grounds in it. A few hairstyling magazines were strewn across the table. We sat on opposite sides of the table. I put Pudgie on my lap.

  "Who owns the Shaggy Puppy?" I asked. "Do you know? It's weird that I don't know."

  "Gwen never told you."

  I shook my head. "Did she tell you?"

  "Not that I remember."

  "What happened to Marcy?"

  "I don't know yet. Her cleaning service found her body in her apartment this morning. The coroner is doing the autopsy. Tell me about the last time you saw Marcy."

  "Yesterday. Here at work. It was a normal day. We were both here most of the day. Hannah had the day off."

  "What time did you leave?"

  "I left at four to work across the street at the senior center. When I finished at seven, I stopped in here to pick up my jacket, and Marcy had already closed up for the night."

  "So she wasn't here?"

  "Not at seven, no."

  "How did she seem at four?"

  "Marcy wasn't an easy person to know. But she seemed fine, I guess."

  "You guess?"

  "I'm racking my brain, Cormac, I really am. But I can't think of anything to tell you. We worked together for almost a year, but I didn't know her that well, which sounds odd now, but that's just the way she was."

  "What was Marcy wearing yesterday?"

  "Oh!" I popped up and ran to my station to get my cell phone. "I have a picture of her on my phone. It was Miles Gould's first haircut. His mom wanted me to e-mail it to her. Look."

  I showed Cormac the picture of Miles in the pug chair with Marcy and Miles's mom smiling beside him. Marcy had short brown hair and a big smile.

  I pointed to the picture. "Marcy was wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved red sweater. And her clogs. She always wore her clogs."

  "Can you e-mail me this?"

  "Sure. I think I still have your address." I clicked over to my e-mail app and sent the picture to Cormac.

  "Do you know who her friends were? Anything about her family?"

  "Not really. She used to talk about a sister, but that's all, really." I felt terrible, like I'd been ignoring Marcy for the past year. It was true that I'd been grieving over Gwen's death for a good part of the year, but as the clouds of mourning had passed, I didn't make an effort to get to know Marcy and now I wished I had.

  I sighed. "I'm sorry."

  "For what?"

  "I should know more."

  "Let's talk again later. Once I complete the searches and hear back from the coroner, I can ask more meaningful questions. We'll start piecing together what happened. That's how it works."

  I nodded. I didn't even watch television shows about crimes.

  "There's an odd book in her office," I said. "First time I've ever seen it."

  He nodded. "I'll call you this afternoon. Where will you be?"

  "I have a four o'clock at the senior center. Until then I should be at home."

  "I'll be in touch."

  As I left to walk home, I texted Hannah. Are you okay?

  I needed to get out of there, she texted back. Poor Marcy.

  Call me later? I texted.

  Hannah didn't text back. She must have been driving home.

  I stopped at the convenience store and bought three cans of kitten food and headed up the street toward my house. I needed a very long, very hot shower.

  As I approached the park, I saw a dark shape lying at the lake's edge, half in the water and half out. I ran over, hoping it wasn't the homeless man who sometimes hung out at the corner.

  Maybe it was a pile of leaves? But it looked like a person. I felt a heaviness in my gut. After what happened to Marcy, I was expecting something bad.

  It was a man! He was wearing black clothes, and I immediately thought of Nate, the man who had carried me to the Hair Atelier. I leaned down to look closely.

  It was Nate! What happened?

  His face was half in the water, but his nose and mouth weren't submerged and he was breathing.

  I tried to roll him over, but he wouldn't budge. I set down Pudgie and grabbed Nate by his feet, pulling as hard as I could, but he didn't move even an inch.

  Then I remembered the woman in the ocean. She'd said I could command water. I looked around. No one else was here. It couldn't hurt to try, right?

  "Water, bring him to the grass," I commanded, and a giant sphere of water formed around Nate, lifting him out of the lake.

  I gasped. The bubble collapsed and Nate splashed facedown on the path. He bolted up, spitting out water and coughing.

  He stared at me with a startled expression and said, "You!"

  Pudgie mewed.

  Nate collapsed back onto the ground and closed his eyes. "Nate! Nate!" I shouted, pulling on his arm as he slid more deeply into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 4

  Sadie

  When Nate didn't respond even after more pushing and pulling, I called 911.

  I told the dispatcher what had happened. Well, most of it. I left out the part about the water magically carrying Nate out of the lake.

  "He's lying facedown on the ground but he won't wake up. Should I try to roll him over?"

  I held my fingers in front of Nate's nose and felt a steady breath passing in and out. His chest was rising and falling. I pushed on his shoulder, rocking him back and forth, trying to revive him.

  "Is he lying in liquid? Water? Vomit?" the dispatcher asked in her slow voice.

  "No. Not anymore. He's just lying there. Breathing."

  "Then don't touch him. Just keep him safe until the ambulance arrives. They'll know what to do."

  She told me it would be just a few more minutes, so I sat down on the grass next to Nate and stroked Pudgie between the ears. Clouds were gathering overhead, and I knew we were in for one of our sudden rainstorms. I pulled a jacket out of my backpack.

  I looked around the park. No one else was there, which meant no one had seen the lake rise. Unless it was my imagination, the water level in the lake seemed lower. Maybe that was because of the water that had moved Nate.

  I heard a siren and knew the ambulance would be arriving soon. But for now, we seemed to be alone. What else would water do for me?

  "Lake, turn to steam," I whispered, and the lake misted as if we were in a sauna.

  "Now, snow!" The mist turned to fluffy white flakes and drifted toward me.

  "Ice cubes!" The snow froze up and cubes dropped into the lake.

  I had to smile. This was cool, even if I didn't understand why or how. My headache had returned though. I wondered if magic and my parched headachy feeling were related. Was doing magic having an adverse effect on me?

  Liquid. Steam. Snow. Ice. Clearly I had power over water. Or, I'd lost my mind.

  Pudgie mewed at me.

  Lights flashing, an ambulance drove straight up the trail and screeched to a stop. I jumped up.

  A heavy young man with pitch-black hair hopped out of the passenger side of the ambulance and ran over to us. He leaned over Nate. "I'm Johnny," he said. "EMT. What happened?"

  "I found him collapsed," I said. "He was in the water but I got him out."

  "Good thing you called us. Well done."

  An older man emerged from the ambulance and joined Johnny. They examined Nate, who
had a small abrasion on the cheek of his otherwise perfect face. They slid a brace on his neck.

  "His name is Nate," I volunteered.

  Johnny glanced over at me and nodded. "You're together. You can come with us in the ambulance if you want."

  Was I in shock? I couldn't believe the man I had just been talking to an hour ago in the salon, the man who pulled me out of the ocean, was now lying unconscious. I couldn't believe Marcy was dead. Were the two events connected in some way?

  Wait.

  Together? Did Johnny think I was Nate's girlfriend?

  "I'm not—"

  "Let's get him in the ambulance," said the older EMT, and the two men lifted Nate onto a gurney and placed him in the back of the ambulance.

  "This is his girlfriend," Johnny said.

  I looked up, startled. How had he jumped to that conclusion? I shook my head, but no one noticed. "No… I—"

  "She's riding with us," he continued. "Come on." Johnny wagged his hand, encouraging me to get a move on.

  Marcy was dead. Had someone tried to kill Nate too? Who I was or wasn’t seemed irrelevant at the moment. I didn't want Nate to end up unprotected in the hospital.

  A John Doe?

  No.

  I tucked Pudgie in my backpack and hopped in the back of the ambulance. The kitten was quiet, just when I needed him to be. "Good boy," I whispered into my backpack.

  As the ambulance tore through Enchanted Shores, Johnny monitored Nate's condition. He turned to me. "What's your name?"

  "Sadie."

  "He's stable at the moment, Sadie."

  I sighed with relief. I couldn't believe I'd let him think I was his girlfriend. I wasn't a liar by nature. I tried to tell the truth—unless it would hurt someone's feelings, of course. Your hair looks great. That dress does not make your butt look fat. You are a fabulous dancer. None of those counted. They were little white lies. Everyone did that.

  This was different.

  Pretending to be someone's significant other in an emergency was not a little white lie. It was a huge honking steaming pile of dishonesty.

  But I was stuck in the lie now. As soon as I knew Nate was safe, I'd make a quick exit. Anyway, it was already two o'clock, and I had to be back in town at four. I could be Nate's pretend girlfriend for two hours. It wouldn't be a chore at all, actually. Even drenched in lake muck, Nate was still the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

  Johnny nodded at me. "You can hold his hand if you want. Talk to him," he said. "It might help him wake up."

  "Okay." I breathed in and out, focusing on one thing at a time.

  Nate's left hand was resting on the edge of the gurney. I picked it up and remembered how kind he had been, carrying me away from the beach.

  "Everything's gonna be okay," I said, patting his arm. "Hang on."

  When the ambulance stopped at the emergency room entrance, Johnny jumped into action, opening the door and sliding Nate's gurney onto the sidewalk. "Let's go!" he said to me.

  I jumped down to follow them, holding my backpack to my chest.

  A nurse stormed over to us. She had short clipped blond hair and an Irish accent. "What do we got, Johnny?"

  "Found unresponsive at the lake."

  "Condition?" she barked.

  "Stable but unconscious."

  "Put him in room three!" she ordered, then turned to me. "We have two patients ahead of him. But rest assured—we're going to take good care of your man. Stay by his side."

  "He's not my—" I said. But she had rushed off. So had Johnny.

  I did as I was told and stayed with Nate, sliding my hand into my backpack to pet Pudgie. I knew I shouldn't have a kitten in the hospital, but compared to pretending to be Nate's girlfriend, it seemed pretty innocent. Plus, I would need a friend later, when they discovered who I wasn't and kicked me out.

  Eventually, two orderlies wheeled Nate down the hall to a private room. It was cluttered with medical equipment. They lifted Nate off the gurney and placed him on a bed. Except for his eyes being closed, he looked perfect.

  Just asleep.

  A big male nurse bustled in, removed Nate's clothes, and slid him into a hospital gown. He strapped two machines onto Nate. They started beeping a regular rhythm. It sounded good.

  Maybe I should call Nate's family?

  His wallet and cell phone were on the table. When I was alone with him, I picked up the phone. It didn't feel wet, but it was locked. I tried a few obvious passwords.

  1234. No.

  1111. No.

  0000. Nope.

  9999. Of course not.

  I riffled through his wallet. His driver's license said Nate Serrano. Serrano. Nice name.

  I found a business card tucked between two twenty-dollar bills: Jake Serrano. Pacific Fishing.

  Jake must be Nate's relative.

  I dialed Jake's number on my cell phone and after a few rings, he answered. Static blared into my ear and I yanked the phone a few inches away.

  "Hello?" It sounded like a bad connection, but Jake's voice was warm and friendly.

  "Jake?" I asked.

  "Who's this?"

  "This is Sadie… You don't know me. Everything is probably okay. But Nate's in the hospital. Enchanted Shores General. He collapsed but they say he is stable."

  "What? Sorry. Did you say my brother's in the hospital?" He sounded concerned. It was hard to know just what to say. I didn't want to freak him out, but I did want him to know this was serious.

  "They say he's stable," I repeated.

  "What happened?"

  "He collapsed while he was running and won't wake up."

  "Wait. Who is this?" Jake asked. Now he sounded confused.

  "It's Sadie. Sadie Summer."

  "Do we know you?"

  "He collapsed in the park by my house."

  "Sorry the reception is terrible. I can hardly hear you." Jake said, his voice fading in and out between static pops. "Did you call my mom?"

  "No—"

  "Good, I'll do it. Just be ready for a tornado of worry. I'm sure Nate's told you."

  "I—"

  "Listen, I'm out at sea. Twenty-five miles off shore with a ship full of tuna. I'll call my mom and be there as soon as I can."

  "Okay."

  "Stay with him until then?" Jake said.

  "Of course. I'll stay here."

  "And, Sadie. Thank you." Jake's voice was so kind. Warmth flooded my body. Instead of feeling ashamed for not actually being Nate's girlfriend, I felt appreciated for being there and watching over him.

  "You're welcome," I said.

  I was helping. I was making sure Nate had someone who cared for him while he was alone and unconscious in the emergency room.

  And Jake Serrano—Nate's brother—had thanked me.

  While I waited for Nate's family to show up, the emergency room doctor examined him and ordered tests. Nate remained unconscious throughout being poked and prodded and stuck with needles.

  When the doctor bustled out, I was left alone with the patient again. The machines kept beeping rhythmically.

  My phone chimed, so I checked it. A text from Gus the plumber had come in. Water's back and kitchen sink repaired. $532.91. Thanks!

  Thank you, I gritted my teeth and texted. Now I really needed to win the hairdo-off.

  I picked up Nate's hand and patted it.

  "How you doing there, Nate?" I asked him. "You may not remember me. We met at the hair salon? You liked my kitten?"

  I opened my backpack and lifted Pudgie a little to show Nate. "Remember Pudgie?"

  I put the kitten back.

  "I know you can't see Pudgie. Your eyes are closed. If you can even hear me, you're probably wondering who I am."

  I always babbled when I didn't know what else to do.

  "I wouldn't probably remember me, either, if I'd collapsed after running. And we did only talk for a few minutes in the hair salon. But maybe you remember my kitten? Pudgie? Listen, could you do me a favor? Just wake up, okay? So I can
stop pretending to be your girlfriend?"

  Pudgie mewed at me from inside the backpack.

  I was patting Nate's hand when I heard someone at the door.

  "Is this the girlfriend?"

  Chapter 5

  Sadie

  I turned away from Nate to see two older people in the hallway, looking in at us with concerned expressions.

  The man looked like a seventy-year-old version of Nate, and the woman was clearly his partner. She kept a nervous hand on his arm as he leaned toward her.

  I stood up. "I'm Sadie. Are you Nate's parents?"

  They rushed over and gave me giant hugs, flooding me with affection.

  "Oh, Sadie, thank goodness you were there. I'm Regina and this is Theo, but of course you already know that! Nate was never one to keep quiet about who his family is. But how come we haven't heard of you before?"

  I was a good six inches shorter than Regina, whose long white hair was bluntly cut and pulled into a loose braid down her back. Her hair was that beautiful silver-white color that would look just right on an angel.

  Theo wore a tweed suit with a blue open-collared dress shirt underneath. His eyes were blue like Nate's, and his well-styled hair was steel gray. "How you holding up, dear?" he asked me, taking my hand.

  "Nate was running in the park and—"

  "Yes, the doctor told us, a few moments ago when we arrived," Regina said. "Nate collapsed at the park. He must have just made it there. Thank goodness! Or he might have collapsed in the street!"

  Theo grumbled and ran a hand through his thick gray hair. "I've told him not to run so much. Fine, take a run through the forest or along the ocean when you need it. But to run ten, twenty miles, day after day, week after week, where's the enjoyment in that? Am I right?"

  I nodded. I found myself agreeing with Theo. Something about him was so compelling. I wanted to agree with everything he said before he even said it.

  I smiled. But, honestly, I didn't see what was wrong with running if it made Nate feel better about his body or his life. Maybe he just had a ton of spare energy.

  We all turned to look down at the patient.

  Nate had a little smile on his face now as if he knew that his family was watching over him. I could tell them now that I wasn't Nate's girlfriend. He didn't seem to need me anymore.