Mudflaps and Murder

by Tegan Maher

  I laughed. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear. There was a definite family resemblance between us, but one of the main differences between the two of us was that she had gorgeous straight hair with just enough wave to give it body, while mine was so curly that sometimes it took a whip and chair to tame it. “Sure, you don’t. I mean, there have been so many interesting things goin’ on around here lately that I’m sure you’re having a hard time discerning which one I’m talkin’ about.”

  Levana rolled her brown, kohl-rimmed eyes. “Yes. We’re the excitement capital of the world. Now, it’s killing me. Did you learn anything good at Coralee’s? And what about last night? Was it horrible? I witnessed a man stabbed in a tavern fight once, and there was barely any blood at all.”

  One of the things about growing up in a different time was that her filters were way different from ours. It was fine to discuss somebody being stabbed as if it happened every day, but mention underwear and watch her squirm.

  I gave them a rundown of everything I’d seen and heard about the killing.

  “So aside from some mysterious loan sharks, an irate brother, and a pissed-off ex, there are no clear suspects?”

  “Well, not exactly.” I frowned and stirred my coffee. “Sarah’s not in such a great spot. She mouthed off about him, just venting because they all suspect he’s a cheat but can’t prove it. But the problem is that the people sitting behind us heard her, and they saw her leave in a huff to walk it off because she couldn’t sit still. She has no alibi, and now there are two witnesses that heard her say something about putting a stop to him once and for all.”

  Rae winced. “That’s not good no matter how you look at it. How’s she taking it?”

  “I haven’t talked to her yet today, but she was all right last night. It doesn’t seem to be bothering her that people think that, but I’m not sure it had settled in yet that she could be in real trouble. My concern is that it’s going to put Hunter in a position where he’ll have to look at her as a viable suspect, even though we all know she’d never do something like that. At least not unless Sean was involved.” Sean was Sarah’s son, and she was a tigress when it came to him, but then again, all good mamas are.

  “No,” Levana said. “I’ve known several killers in my time, and she’s not cut from that cloth. Even people who do things in a state of passion have certain personality traits, from what I’ve seen. But that’s not the problem. The problem is that people look for the easy answer, and right now, she’s it. Or at least one of the easiest.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “That’s it in a nutshell. I’m gonna go take Hunter something to eat before I go to the shop. Maybe he’s learned more. Shoot, maybe he’s solved it already. He didn’t answer my text a little bit ago, so I assume he’s doing something related to the case. That would be the best-case scenario all the way around.”

  “Speaking of best-case scenarios,” Raeann said, “what are you doing Monday morning?”

  “Nothing that I know of, but why?” I asked.

  “Because Angel had to go out of town. Her uncle up in Augusta is sick, and she took her mom up to see him. I could use some help here.”

  “I said I could help you,” Levana said. “The fair runs for a month. We can go next weekend.”

  “The fair?” I asked. “I didn’t know there was a fair anywhere this weekend.”

  Levana nodded, her eyes wide. “Indeed there is. There’s a Renaissance fair over on the other side of Eagle Gap. I’m anxious to go see whether they get it right or not. And maybe get some authentic food. I miss roasted meat. Then we were just going to procure a night at an inn, since it’s so far away.” Her eyes took on a faraway gleam. “I do love staying at them. In my time, there were bedbugs and cutthroats, neither of which made for a comfortable sleeping environment.”

  “Well then, roasted meat and an evening in a hotel, you shall get, my fair lady,” I replied, grinning. “I won’t have my bells on, but I’ll be here bright and early. It’ll be fun, actually. Like old times.”

  Raeann laughed. “If you show up here at a quarter to six with bells on, I’ll know for a fact you’ve been body-snatched. But yeah, it’ll be nice.”

  My phone dinged with Hunter’s text tone, and I glanced down at it.

  “What’s he say?” Rae asked. “Has he figured out who did it?”

  I pulled in a deep breath and blew it out through my cheeks. “No, but Sarah just got bumped to the front of the line. One of the other racers saw a woman about her shape and size coming out of the tent. It was dark, so all they saw was the shape, but they say it was definitely a woman with a ponytail.”

  My thoughts flicked back to what I’d heard Evie think. I timed it perfectly. Now the rat bastard’s dead, and I’ll get away with it. I fired off a reply asking if he’d had time to double-check her alibi, then told the girls what I’d ‘overheard’ when I’d opened my senses.

  Levana, who’d been a witch for almost three centuries, frowned. “You must be careful when interpreting thoughts. In my experience, people’s thoughts aren’t generally that organized. We speak that way, but we don’t tend to think in long sentences. Fragments accompanied by fleeting emotional spikes are more the norm.”

  I thought about that and realized she was right. “But I definitely heard it.”

  “You may very well have. But what I’ve noticed since I’ve been living in this age of technology is that people think about what they’re texting as they text it.”

  I gave myself a mental forehead slap. She was right.

  She gave me a look akin to one Addy would give me when a lecture was on the way. It was hard at times to realize that even though her smooth alabaster skin and long, raven’s wing hair were unmarred by age, she wasn’t my age after all. Her lineage was one blessed—or cursed—with a long lifespan, and though she looked like she was my age, she was old enough to be Addy’s great grandmother.

  “It may not be my place to say anything,” she began, “but you have the gift. It’s not going away, and it’s not good for you to lock it away and only use it when it suits you. Magic doesn’t work that way—it’s an energy of its own, and you can either control it, or it will control you. Chaos, we used to call it.”

  I sighed and rolled my head on my shoulders. “I know you’re right, but it’s exhausting.”

  She drew her brows down at me. “It’s only exhausting because you haven’t mastered it. You’ve had it for what—a year, now? In that time, you could have already learned how to use it at will. By now, you’d have a handle on it and would have known how to use it.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m gonna talk to Camille about starting our lessons back.”

  “I’d be willing to help you, too. Raeann and I have been working on it while we’re working.”

  “Really?” I asked, instantly feeling guilty for imaging all the juicy things they probably overheard.

  “Really,” Rae replied. “And I recognize that twinkle in your eye. It’s not nearly as good as all that. If anything, I’ve learned just how much I really don’t want to know what other people are thinking.”

  I leaned forward, putting my elbows on the table. “Tell me.”

  They both laughed, then glanced over their shoulders like people always do when they’re about to talk about something they shouldn’t.

  “You know the mayor?”

  Our mayor was a portly bald guy on the far side of middle age who spent more time fishing than he did actually running the town, though to be fair, the town pretty much ran itself whether he was sitting at his desk or not. That was due in large part to Peggy Sue, the Circuit Clerk who’d run things for as long as I could remember. There wasn’t a strip of land, tax notice, eviction, wedding, divorce, or birth that she didn’t know about.

  “Yeah?”

  “He was thinking the other day that he needs to get the top of his feet waxed,” Raeann said.

  I crinkled my
nose. “Just ... eww. And this is supposed to persuade me that I need to use this gift?”

  Levana waved her off. “What about that nice young couple who came in last weekend?”

  Raeann’s eyes went all starry. “Yeah, that was awesome. They came in together to get hot chocolate, which is how they met—in here, over Christmas last year when they were both home from college. He was so nervous, and then his thoughts slipped to me, and I realized he was going to propose right here, at this very table. I had a happy hangover all day from that little burst of emotion.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “You feel their emotions?”

  Raeann lifted a shoulder. “I mean, I guess so. Don’t you?”

  I puckered my lips and thought about it. “I’m not sure, now that you mention it.”

  Levana rolled her eyes. “If you don’t know, you definitely need to work on it. Shame on you, girl. You don’t even know what sort of gifts you have!”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel what other people did, though, and opened my mind just a crack to test it. Raeann was still thinking about the happy couple, and Levana was plotting when she was going to bend me to her will, but I didn’t feel anything except my regular feelings. Then a good, solid mental poke.

  “Get out of my head,” Levana said, though there was no heat in her words. “It’s rude. Especially when the other person knows you’re doing it.”

  “I was just checking,” I replied. “I didn’t feel any emotions from you two at all, so unless you’re robots, I think I’m good. I’m glad. I don’t want to know what people are feeling on top of what they’re thinking. Thoughts are gross enough.”

  “But sometimes emotions help translate thoughts,” Raeann said.

  I held up my hand. “I’m good. One weird skill at a time.”

  “So,” Levana said, “is there any way you can figure out who she was texting? Or if she actually was texting, I suppose.”

  I shook my head. I’d already been down that road with Hunter. The courts weren’t big on granting access to a person’s call history unless there was a damned good reason. Judge Heffner was reasonable and had done it in the past, but he was also ethical. He wouldn’t allow it just so Hunter could go on a fishing expedition. “Not a chance.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll figure this out. You two always do.”

  “We will,” I replied, “but I sure hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I figured since I’d parked right behind my shop, it would be silly not to go in. I didn’t really have any projects going, and I’d planned to take the day off, but I’d at least say hi to Erol, the ghost of the gentleman who’d owned it before me. He got all twitchy if he was the last to hear big news, so I tried to keep him in the loop as much as possible. I smiled when the sun glinted off the gold lettering on my window. Reimagined. I’d opened the upcycle shop after I was rewarded with a boatload of money for helping find who’d murdered our then-sheriff, and I hadn’t regretted it for even a minute. The repetitious movements of sanding and painting old pieces of furniture and other antiques were almost as soothing to me as baking was, and it gave my magic another outlet.

  Anna Mae—the sheriff’s widow—had opened a vintage clothing and antique shop at the same time I’d opened Reimagined, and we often went to estate sales and auctions together. Whereas she looked for intact pieces mostly ready for resale, I looked for beat-up items ready to be given a new purpose. I turned wine bottles into lamps, discarded bedsprings into candleholders, and old signs into clocks. Those are just the smaller items. I’ve made bedroom sets, bookshelves, and entryway pieces from a variety of materials, and would try just about anything once if it meant breathing life into something that otherwise goes to a landfill. Besides, I like surrounding myself with old things. They all have a story to tell, and it kills me to see them silenced in a garbage heap.

  “Hey, guys,” I called as I pushed the front door open and flipped on the lights.

  “Shhh,” Erol said, reinforcing the shush with impatient hand gestures. “I’ve binged the whole first season of this design series, and they’re doing the final elimination to see who goes to the finals. Kristen had the best design, I think, but she screwed up and mismanaged her time. That leaves it between Daniel and Stacey. I hope she loses because she’s a real hag, but it’s not looking good. Erin’s definitely going through, though.”

  Throughout the rundown, he hadn’t taken his eyes off the TV, and I smiled when I saw our two pet rats, Sammie and Norm, staring at the set with the same rabid attention Erol was giving it. Since I love that sort of show, I was torn between wanting to watch and wanting to cover my ears in case I decided to watch the whole season at some point. I gave in and watched.

  As Erol had predicted, Stacey won, which put her through to the finals and sent a crying Daniel packing. Scowling in the cutest way, Sammie hopped onto the remote and jabbed the off button, and the screen went black.

  “Hey,” I said, “where’d you learn to do that, Little Bit?”

  Erol beamed. “Coralee came over last night after she closed to change the TV for me, and she had her friend Marsha with her—you remember her. She’s the really nice medium who helps Coralee with the books. She hasn’t been around much because she’s busy buildin’ her dream house on the other side of Keyhole Lake, but I love it when she comes in.” He rolled his eyes and put his hands up. “That girl has mad design skills. You should see what she’s doin’ with that place!”

  “Okay,” I said, rolling my finger to get him to move on. I knew Marsha and liked her every bit as much as he did, but I wanted to know about Sammie and the remote.

  “Fine,” he replied, shaking his head in a manner that let me know he found my impatience rude. “She said it sort of sucked that I had to wait on somebody to change the channels for me and asked why we didn’t just teach Sammie and Norm how to do it. I was a little ashamed that I hadn’t thought of it already, especially when they both got the hang of it in just a few minutes. They don’t understand the numbers yet, but they’re getting pretty good with the power, volume, and selection keys as long as I point to which one I want them to press.”

  Both rats were beaming with pride, their little whiskers twitching, and I grinned back. “Way to go, guys—that’s awesome!” I shook my head, disappointed in myself for not having thought of it when it was such a simple solution. Thank heavens for Marsha. I’d tried the phone app, but I didn’t always have the best luck with it, and even when I did, Erol would still have to hunt me down to ask me to change it. And trust me—there were times when the last thing I wanted was a ghostly visit from, well, any ghost, no matter how much I loved them. Since he felt bad about interrupting me, it had never been an issue unless, of course, there was a season finale of Top Chef or Real Housewives that he’d forgotten to tell me about. Then all consideration for my privacy went right out the window.

  “So what are you doing here? I thought you were going camping for the weekend out at that horrid redneck place,” Erol said once the credits were rolling.

  I paused, surprised he hadn’t heard since he loved flitting through the wall to Coralee’s. He and Belle lived to talk about fashion disasters. “I assume you know there was a murder, right?”

  He whipped his gaze toward me “Say what again?”

  “Or apparently you don’t know,” I said, one brow raised. I shared all the information I had with him, and he thought for a minute, rubbing his goatee.

  “You say he was stabbed with a screwdriver?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “Have you talked to anybody else about the ex’s alibi? That sounds awful convenient that those two are each other’s only alibi, but they can’t provide any outside proof.”

  “No, we haven’t, and we’re skeptical, too. The problem is that without calling them both liars, there’s really no way to prove it’s not the truth.”

  “Unless you can get your hands on her phone,” he pointed out. “See wheth
er Lavana’s theory is true.”

  “Yeah, but the odds of that are astronomical,” I said.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “Unless you have some way of tracking her down and getting her to share a sneak peek at her phone, I’m leaving it in the maybe not category.”

  Before he could respond, the bell above my front door jangled. I trotted the couple of steps to the door from the back to see who it was. A tall man with dirty-blond hair and a significant beer gut pushed through. Even though his suit looked pricey, he didn’t wear it well.

  “Hi,” I said, dusting off my hands. “Welcome to Reimagined. Are you looking for something in particular?”

  The guy pulled his gaze up so that it met mine. “You could say that.”

  The words seemed weighted, but I had no idea why. “Okay, then, what exactly are you looking for? If you have something specific in mind, we can draw up a sketch to make sure we’re on the right page if you don’t see it here. I’m afraid I’m a bit low on inventory right now due to custom orders. If you have a pic or screenshot of something similar, that would be even better.”

  Erol swept in from the backroom and paused several feet from the man, gasping and putting his hand in front of his mouth. “Oh, dear,” he said. “There is absolutely no good that can come of this.” He pivoted a bit toward me and hissed, “Don’t try to sell him anything, and you’ll make something for him over my dead body. Get rid of him!”

  At first, his actions scared me a little, but then I realized his expression was mutinous rather than fearful. I had no idea who this guy was, but Erol obviously did, and there was zero love lost. Since I couldn’t exactly ask him why, I did the best I could, considering I’d already started the conversation. “I do have to warn you, though, that I’m booked out almost a year in advance, so if you need something, I won’t be able to put you on the schedule until next fall.”

  “You’re booked out forever in this case,” Erol growled, zooming near the guy and scowling. It was then that I noticed a slight resemblance, though there was such a massive difference in the way the two took care of themselves that it was a wonder I picked up on it. Underneath the two-day scruff on the new guy’s face, I could pick out a jawline similar to Erol’s, and they had the same eyes. I squinted at him, then at Erol’s furious face. Yeah, definitely related. Now I had a better feel for things. I also knew that there was only one brother who would instigate that reaction from my mild-mannered friend. And if this was the guy, I didn’t have anything other than a boot in the behind to offer him, either. He’d tormented Erol about his lifestyle choices, calling him an abomination against nature.