Bat Out of Spell

by Amanda M. Lee

  “You didn’t act confused,” I pointed out. “You always poked me whenever you saw me, kind of like you were feeding off my animosity.”

  “I was.” Augie turned sheepish. “You know how they say some people don’t care how they get attention – whether it’s good or bad – as long as they get some sort of reaction? That’s how I always felt about you.”

  Was he baring his soul here? I wasn’t sure I could take that. “Augie … .”

  “I really wish you would call me August, at least when I’m working. No one takes a guy named ‘Augie’ seriously.”

  “First, your name is Augie.” I had no intention of backing down on that. “The name fits you. August sounds stuffy; you’re not stuffy. You’re fun and annoying and you know how to irritate people. That sounds like an Augie to me.”

  He made an annoyed face. “I think you’re the only one who believes that.”

  “Oh, puh-leez.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m hardly the only one on the island calling you that. It’s part of who you are. It’s too late to change it. There’s nothing wrong with being an Augie. It makes you more … approachable.”

  “You don’t ever want to approach me.”

  Was that what was bothering him? “That’s because you always tease me and pick a fight.”

  “You’re the one who picks fights.”

  “No, it’s you.”

  “Don’t ruin this.” Augie’s tone was almost a growl. “I’m willing to take some responsibility for the fact that we always bicker, but you have to take some of it, too. It’s not all me. You’re ready to argue before I even open my mouth sometimes.”

  He had a point. “That’s because you’re good at fighting.”

  Augie was taken aback. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

  “It was.” We were at a point of no return. I could feel the energy crackling between us. I could turn back and erect a wall big enough that neither of us would be able to climb over it or crawl under it, or I could push forward. The question was, what did I really want?

  The answer was simple. There was no going back. It was already too late, although I had no idea how that had happened. “I’m the sort of person who likes to debate, Augie. It’s part of my personality. I can’t shake it and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to.”

  Augie appeared bemused. “Are you saying you don’t want to be a nicer individual?”

  “You wouldn’t like me if I was nicer. Nicer is boring.”

  “Not always.” Augie lifted our hands and I realized somehow we’d linked fingers when I wasn’t aware. “Sometimes you’re kind of sweet without realizing it.”

  I knit my eyebrows. “Augie, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by the statement. “I’m not sure it is either. I think there’s a reason I’ve always been fascinated by you, though. I think sometimes that fascination made me mean when it wasn’t exactly fair to you, but … I can’t seem to shake this feeling.”

  “What feeling is that?”

  “That if I don’t go after you you’ll never come after me.”

  It was a simple statement, but it was loaded with emotions I wasn’t sure I could handle. “And what if it blows up in our faces?”

  “Then we’ll go back to being mean to each other. It’s not a big risk when you really think about it.”

  It felt big. It felt so big my heart actually sighed. “I need to think about it.”

  “Okay.” Augie took me by surprise when he hopped to his feet, dragging me with him as he moved toward the water. “While you’re thinking about it, I thought we might do that sinking thing in the water. You know the thing where you stand and let the surf wash over you to the point your feet are buried in the sand when the water recedes? I want to do that.”

  The shift in his demeanor threw me for a loop. “That’s what you want to do?”

  “Yup.”

  “But … I might need more than an hour splashing around the ocean to think this through.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely going to need more time than that,” Augie agreed. He seemed calm, almost happy, as he stuck his toe in the water. “If you decide this isn’t for you there won’t be anything I can do about it. You’ll walk away and we’ll go back to being whatever it is we were before. There won’t be beach walks in that world, so I want to do this now.”

  He was painfully adorable when he wanted to be. How had I never noticed that before? “Okay, but if you try anything funny I’ll have to drown you.”

  Augie snorted. “You wish you could drown me.”

  Not really and yet … kind of.

  “You’re not strong enough to take me anyway.” Augie was all bravado and false courage.

  “Oh, I could drown you if I wanted,” I warned. “I’m stronger than I look.”

  “I’ve never doubted that, but … I think you’ll have to prove it to me.”

  “Fine.”

  Augie let loose a war whoop before releasing my hand and sloshing into the water. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing until a wall of salted liquid smacked me in the face. I licked my lips and pushed my hair from my face as I studied him.

  “You’ll pay for that,” I warned.

  “I certainly hope so. That’s why I did it.”

  “Then you’d better start running.”

  Augie shook his head, that charming grin of his coming out to play. “I favor my chances.”

  Terrifyingly enough, I was starting to favor them, too.

  Eighteen

  I was wired when I got home. Augie offered to walk me, but I knew that was a bad idea. We were both soaked, which meant my top was clinging to what few curves I had. His shirt was clinging to him, too, and I had the distinct impression that I would like what I saw if he took that shirt off, and if he walked me home the odds of that shirt disappearing in a typhoon of hands and tongues were high.

  I wasn’t ready for that. I was being honest when I said I needed to think things through. If Augie and I really did become involved – something I never saw happening until the past forty-eight hours or so – then eventually he would have to find out the truth. I wasn’t sure what that would do to him.

  For starters, he’d been living under the assumption that I was going to be a nun. The truth could cause everything he believed about me, what I was doing in Eternal Springs in the first place, to come tumbling down. When you added the magic factor, Augie might not be able to take it. He would most likely run before we even got started and then things would return to how they were … except he would have information to hold over my head or possibly share with the other residents.

  It was all a convoluted mess and I couldn’t see a way for it to work out for either of us. Despite that, deep down, I wanted to try. There was something about him that called to me. It wasn’t a recent thing, either. I think I was always attracted to him, which is why I was especially mean and argumentative whenever he came around.

  What? Some people bat their eyelashes and twirl hair when attracted to a guy. I hurl insults. It’s who I am.

  I stopped at the house long enough to change into dry clothes and braid my hair. Then I decided to take a walk. I needed to clear my head. Augie was clouding things. I still had a murder to solve and I was doubtful I would have much time to do it.

  I didn’t put up a fight when Swoops slipped out ahead of me and the hairless cat followed at my heels. I didn’t even know Tut was in the house when I’d changed. He probably liked watching me or something. Ugh, there’s nothing worse than a perverted cat.

  Where are we going?

  Swoops was a fan of nighttime excursions. I could practically feel his enthusiasm as I strode toward the path at the back of the house. It led into the woods and was ultimately a shortcut to the resort. I didn’t know what I expected to find there, but anything was better than sitting at home and stressing over a potential relationship with Augie. I needed to focus on something constructive … like getting close to Sheridan Whitney. If any
one had the lowdown on her father’s relationship with her best friend, it was her.

  “The resort. I want to see if I can find the daughter of the murder victim.”

  “To what end?” Tut asked, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the foliage. “What do you think she can tell you?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I’m not sure. I have trouble believing it’s possible for Sheridan not to know what was going on.”

  “Why would she remain friends with someone who was trying to break up her parents’ marriage?”

  I should’ve been surprised at Tut’s knowledge of the case, but the hairless little creep was a master at ferreting out information. Obviously he’d been keeping his ears to the ground. “Maybe she didn’t like her father and thought her mother would be better off without him.”

  “Or maybe she didn’t like her mother and thought the same,” Tut noted. “Still, even if a child recognizes an abusive parent for what he or she is, they don’t usually want a friend to enter the picture and potentially become a stepmother.”

  He had a point. “I haven’t been able to get close enough to talk to her. If I could get a feel for her, I might be able to sort this out. It doesn’t make sense that Blair Whitney would want her husband’s mistress with her on vacation. I mean … I get being cruel. I get off on being mean sometimes.”

  “You don’t say,” Tut drawled.

  I ignored his sarcasm. “Bringing a mistress along for the ride has to be uncomfortable for both parties. Rebecca wouldn’t be the only one upset about the situation. Even if she was getting off on the power trip, Blair had to hate her life during this spa visit because Rebecca was a constant reminder of what her husband was doing.”

  “I see where you’re coming from and raise you another question,” Tut said. “Why would Blair allow Rebecca to bring her mother with her? Lena gave Rebecca a lifeline that Blair shouldn’t have wanted if she was simply out to torture Rebecca.”

  That was another fair point. “I don’t know what to make of any of it. If I hated someone I certainly wouldn’t want to bring him or her on vacation.”

  “What about August Taylor?”

  My shoulders stiffened at the question. “What does Augie have to do with this conversation?”

  “I’m merely curious.” Tut swished his tail and stared hard into a clump of bushes. “Rabbit.”

  “If you kill a rabbit I’ll force you to wear its fur to cover your freaky hairless body,” I warned. “Leave the rabbit alone.”

  “Rabbits are blights.”

  “You’re a blight.”

  “And you’re crabby.” Tut kept walking, ignoring the rabbit, although I didn’t miss the way his ears twitched when he lifted his nose to scent the air. He was a creepy little thing. “Are you crabby because August didn’t come home with you?”

  Was that a real question? “I’m crabby because a woman died and I want to know who killed her.”

  “You’re crabby because you like August and you think your life would be simpler if you didn’t,” Tut corrected. “If we’re going to have a conversation, at least be honest.”

  “You want honesty? I hate you.”

  Tut was imperious. “No, you don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel.”

  “I think you need someone to tell you how to feel,” Tut shot back. “You’re too closed off. If you don’t let someone else in you’ll be a pain in the butt for the rest of your life. August will be good for you. I think you should give it a shot.”

  “Like I’m going to take advice from a cat,” I muttered.

  Augie and Skye sitting in a tree. Swoops was a twittering mess. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

  “If you ever sing that song again I will bar corned beef hash from the house,” I threatened, causing Swoops to instantly go silent.

  “She’s making that up,” Tut said after a beat. “She’s mean on the outside and a marshmallow on the inside. She’ll never stop buying you corned beef hash.”

  I shot him a dark look. “I’m going to take you to the animal shelter and put you up for adoption if you’re not careful.”

  “Go ahead. See where it gets you.”

  He sounded so sure of himself that I immediately backed off. “I don’t understand why you guys even came along on this little excursion. It’s not like something exciting is going to happen.”

  “You never know.” Tut was the smug sort and that’s how he appeared now. “You might get lucky without even realizing it.”

  “That would be nice, but I doubt it.”

  “Have faith,” Tut suggested. “A sunnier outlook might do wonders for your reputation.”

  “I happen to like my reputation.”

  “No one likes your reputation.”

  I held up my hand to silence him. “I’m done talking to you for the night. You no longer exist to me.”

  Tut made a noise that suspiciously sounded as though he was going to cough up a hairball, which was ridiculous because he didn’t have any hair. “We’ll see where that gets you.”

  “I hate it when you say things like that.”

  “That’s why I say them.”

  THE RESORT LOOKED quiet. Swoops immediately peeled off and headed toward the mud pit. That’s where the best bugs hang out. At least that’s what he told me when I bothered to listen to his long and convoluted stories about hunting down dinner.

  Tut drifted toward some bushes on the far side of the parking lot. I could see him but was happy not to be forced to keep up a conversation I didn’t want to be part of. I was debating checking out the resort bar when I noticed a figure walking along the sidewalk. It was a woman, and at first I thought she was talking to herself. After a few moments I realized she was on a cell phone … and that she was someone I might find interest in interrogating.

  “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. We wanted to be out in the morning, but there are no ferries leaving until after one. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

  Rebecca Preston was dressed down in casual yoga pants and a simple T-shirt. She seemed oblivious to my presence and lost in her own little world.

  “No, we still don’t know exactly what happened. The security guy wants to talk to us before we leave, but Mom called her attorney and he says we don’t have to. The faster we get out of here, the better. I don’t understand why we stayed in the first place. But it was Sheridan’s decision, and I couldn’t really put up a fight given what happened to Blair.”

  Rebecca listened as the speaker on the other end of the call said something. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’ll be home tomorrow. I need you to pick me up at the airport. The faster I get away from Sheridan and my mother, the better.”

  Another pause.

  “Great. I’ll text you as soon as we land. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

  Rebecca disconnected her phone and stared at the night sky. She still hadn’t seen me, and I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. I finally made up my mind and took a step toward her. If she really was leaving tomorrow I might not have another chance to question her.

  “Excuse me.”

  Rebecca jolted at the sound of my voice, swiveling quickly. I held up my hands in a placating manner, doing my best to appear innocent and non-confrontational.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” I was sure the smile I pasted on my face came off more deranged than trustworthy, but there was nothing I could do about that. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”

  “You wanted to ask me a question?” Rebecca lifted her eyebrows and glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting someone else to be there. “I don’t know what I can tell you,” she said finally as she turned back. “I’m not local, so if you’re lost there’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “I’m local and I’m not lost.”

  “Oh.” My answer clearly didn’t put Rebecca at ease. “What do you want?”

  A normal person would’ve eased into the heavier questions, but I was tired and working on a timetable. If R
ebecca was offended by what I was about to ask she would tell me. She didn’t seem the type to play games. Er, well, other than sleeping with her best friend’s father in order to get her hands on his family’s money, that is.

  “Does Sheridan know you’re having an affair with her father?” I blurted out the question and waited for Rebecca to melt down. Instead, she looked confused and maybe a little panicked.

  “What are you asking?”

  I decided to give her both barrels. “I’m asking if Sheridan knows about your plans for her father. I mean … you guys are best friends, right? I would think it would be hard to hide something of that magnitude from a best friend.”

  “Who are you?” Rebecca looked bewildered. “Am I supposed to know who you are? Did Charles send you?”

  That was an interesting reaction. “Last time I checked, Charles was still at the Beachcomber Resort being the world’s biggest tool. That probably means he’s overcompensating for a small tool, but I digress. I haven’t heard about him leaving town yet and I’m most certainly not here on his behalf.”

  Now I was certain that the emotion I saw flitting across Rebecca’s face was fear. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Is he still angry with me? He left me a really angry message earlier, telling me I was an idiot and he didn’t like my new attitude and wanted to break up. I’ve been trying to get him on the phone ever since, but he refuses to pick up.”

  Whoops! That was probably my fault. Ah, well. Rebecca was young. She would get over it … as long as she wasn’t a murderer. “You’re better off without him.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because he’s a jerk. What’s worse is that he knows he’s a jerk and expects everyone to swallow it because they think he has money. The thing is, you know he doesn’t have nearly as much money as he pretends. That begs the question, why are you still hanging around to take his abuse if you know he doesn’t have money? You’re clearly not in it for love.”

  “Am I on camera?” Rebecca darted her head from left to right, her eyes scanning the bushes and trees. “Is this for a reality show or something?”