Moonshine & Magic

by Bella Falls

  “It’s what we’re calling the curse,” I yelled back at him. When I made it to Alison Kate’s car, I opened the door and placed the kitten on the passenger seat. Turning the key over, I rolled the driver’s window closed. With strict instructions for Peaches to stay put, I slid back out of the car, shutting the kitty inside and facing Mason.

  “It doesn’t matter what you call it because the curse will do its job unless we solve the case. And as far as I can tell, Dash is our best lead. But that doesn’t explain why you would go and put yourself in harm’s way by sharing the same space as an angry werewolf.”

  “Shifter,” I corrected. “Why can’t you get that right? What do you have against him?”

  Clouds cleared away from the moon, and its light beamed down on Mason’s disapproving countenance. “I have my reasons.”

  More secrets. My level of trust, especially in exasperating men, dropped a few more notches. “You said that when you thought you detected the curse on me that I could have been the killer. But you gave me the benefit of the doubt. And tonight, did you arrest Lee when he came into the station?”

  The detective pursed his lips. “No. At least, not yet.” he uttered.

  “Why? Because he voluntarily came in? Or because he’s a witch and not a shifter or vampire or anything else you hold a grudge against?” I held up my hand to keep Mason quiet. “I was here trying to encourage Dash to go to the station with me so he could add his information. But you and your cowboys came in guns blazing, and you arrested Dash.”

  “There weren’t any actual guns.” He avoided my stare. “Besides, how do you know he’s not guilty? Because you think he’s hot?”

  In all my years, I’d only ever hit my brother. And that was because he’s my older brother. But my fingers curled into fists at my side. “So that’s all this was? It’s some sort of pissing contest between the two of you?”

  “No.”

  “Lie.”

  “Charli, it makes sense that Dash is involved. Tipper drank a lot. According to Lee, he had some moonshine, and you’d told him that he’d poured some in his drink that night with you.”

  His detective’s brain didn’t protect him from the anger boiling inside of me. “And you leaped from that info to Dash being guilty? What about Lee? No, that’s just going down the wrong path. Here’s the bigger question. What have you found out from Tipper’s flask?”

  Mason’s mouth pursed. “Not much. I’m still waiting on my favor.”

  I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “Exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  My groan echoed in the still air. “It means that we don’t know squat yet other than some suspicions. And I’ve given you the best leads so far. Test all the moonshine left to see if there’s anything in it that could have killed Tipper. Also, maybe my uncle wasn’t the only one to touch the flask? Maybe someone else laced it with something? Frosted fairy wings, you’re supposed to be the detective here.” I drew in a slow breath.

  Mason stepped closer to me. “Exactly. It’s supposed to be my job to approach a dangerous suspect. Not. Yours.”

  I shook my head. “Dash isn’t dangerous.”

  “How would you know? Have you ever been around an angry were—”

  “Don’t you say it.”

  “Fine. Shifter.” He grabbed me by my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. “You have no idea, do you? That there are some beings out there that cannot control what they become and what they do to others.”

  “Mason,” I complained.

  “And what if something had happened? How would that have helped? How would it have affected everyone around you? Your grandmother. Your brother. Haven’t they lost enough?” His breath panted on my face.

  I stared at him, scared to answer. He blinked at me, a sudden awareness waking him up. With a sigh, he loosened his grip but didn’t let me go.

  “I’ve been through it. Lost someone that I cared about,” he said.

  “To a werewolf,” I finished.

  He nodded and swallowed hard. “I was still a warden at the time, not a detective. By the time I made it to the scene, there was hardly anything left to identify her. But I knew.”

  My brain itched to ask him who his her was. But I gave him the space to share what he wanted.

  Mason released me from his hold. “He could have hurt you, Charli, and no one would have been here to stop him.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me. I know he wouldn’t. He promised,” I uttered in a quieter voice.

  Mason’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, well, sometimes we make promises we can’t keep.” Grief and anguish rolled off of him in waves.

  My frustration waned just a fraction. “I appreciate your concern, Mason. I do. But I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now. I somehow managed an entire year all on my own. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “And how’s that working for you now? As soon as you return, you get cursed. And no, I won’t call it anything other than what it is. A death curse, Charli. Do you get it? Death. This isn’t a game.”

  Anger rose inside me for a second time. “Yeah, I’m living as best I can with it. Do you expect me to do nothing when my own life—”

  “I expect you to live!” His voice echoed in the night air.

  The tension between us buzzed like bees. He wanted me safe, and I wanted a say in how my life would be lived for however long I had left.

  Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders back. “I want to live, too. But not tucked away somewhere hidden from the world. I have to actually live my life for it be a life.”

  Mason took a step away and rubbed the back of his head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not good at this.”

  “At what?”

  He gestured his fingers between the two of us. “This. Talking. Making sense.”

  “You do.” I sighed. “And I could do a better job at not jumping into the deep end first. Maybe just the waist-deep water.”

  The moon lit up his small grin. “There’s probably no chance I can convince you to stay out of the water altogether, is there?”

  I lifted my eyebrow at him, unsure if he could see it in the dim moonlight. “About as likely as me not drinkin’ sweet tea on a hot summer’s day.”

  He lifted his hand, and my breath caught in anticipation of his touch. Instead of cupping my cheek, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Aw, Charli. What am I gonna do about you?”

  I closed my eyes, willing my body to stop trembling from all the extra adrenaline coursing through my veins. Just adrenaline. Nothing more.

  “Do your job. Help me solve Tipper’s murder and end the curse.” I rubbed my arm where it throbbed again and ventured to look at him.

  “Don’t you mean Doozy?” Mason’s attempt at a joke broke the tension between us. “We need to get you home. You want me to follow you while you return that car and then take you home?”

  What I needed was some distance between frustrating men and me. “No, I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

  A wall descended between the two of us as I walked back to Alison Kate’s car. Mason waited for me to get inside and closed the door for me. He tapped on the window, and I rolled it down.

  “Get some rest. That’s an order.”

  With a bang on the top of the car, he dismissed me. His headlights followed me back down the road but turned in the opposite direction toward the station.

  Peaches stretched on the passenger seat next to me and climbed into my lap. She turned in a circle a few times and settled down.

  I scratched her little head. “I’m exhausted, too, Little Peach. Let’s get some shut-eye tonight and see what tomorrow brings us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  When I made my way down to eat in the morning, I almost tripped over an orange and grey mass of tangled kitty cats asleep on the small carpet at the foot of the stairs. My new kitten’s charms worked on more than just me. Maybe she’d be the surprise cure to no more bitten ank
les.

  Nana poured a mix of coffee and her newest concoction to keep the curse as dormant as possible into my mug. It looked more like mud, but I’d take any help I could get. Taking a sip of the mixture, I did my best to keep the foul-tasting sludge down.

  My brother stormed into the house, calling out from the foyer. “Birdy, I’m gonna kill you.”

  “Get in line,” I snarked back. “And what for?”

  Matt joined us in the dining room, and Nana disappeared into the kitchen to, no doubt, fix the jerk a plate of food.

  “What were you doing out at Dash’s place last night by yourself? Are you stupid or what?” He sat down in the chair next to mine and leaned in.

  “I was trying to convince him to go to the warden’s station, if you must be all nosy about it. Would have gotten him to do it if you hadn’t ruined my efforts.”

  Nana returned with a loaded plate and cup of coffee for my brother. “What’s this about Dash?”

  We both yelled our version of the story at the same time, and Nana’s eyes flitted back and forth between us. She waited until we finished, fingers pointing at each other, narrowed eyes glaring.

  She crossed her arms with a sniff. “Best I can tell, you’re mad at your brother for being worried about you because you put yourself in harm’s way with Dash. And he’s not entirely wrong. A shifter can be a might dangerous if he or she is not in control. It’s the human side that keeps the animal in check. You know as well as I do that the animal side is wild.”

  “See,” Matt said. I waited for him to stick his tongue out at me like he was ten years old or something.

  “And you, young man. You should have more trust in your sister to judge a person’s character. Sure, I know that Dash is a relatively new addition to our town. But he’s here and under its protection. If her gut tells her she was safe, then I would say that speaks volumes to who he is deep down inside. Now. You two. Make up with each other.” She smacked us both upside our heads and walked back to the kitchen.

  Matt picked up a piece of bacon and stuffed it in his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbled while chewing.

  I cupped my ear. “What was that?”

  “I said I was sorry,” he enunciated. “But you can’t be too mad at me, Birdy. I mean, you’re already dealing with the curse and everything. If I lose you…”

  My heart softened, and I grabbed his hand. “I know. I get it. I’m sorry, too.” To show him how much I loved him, I stole a piece of bacon from his plate.

  “Thief,” he accused with a grin.

  A knock on the door interrupted our moment. “That better not be Mason here to yell at me again. I got enough of that last night. And this morning.”

  “Can’t be him. He’s gone,” said Matt.

  I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean gone? Gone where?”

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t know. He left a message at the station that he needed to go somewhere to retrieve something and would be back as soon as possible.”

  He must be picking up whatever favor he called in. Still, it unsettled me that he left in such a hurry. The fact that he took off without saying anything to me probably meant he was still mad at me. Pixie poop.

  Ben waved at me from the other side of the screen door when I went to answer the knock. He held a small box in his other hand.

  “Mornin’, Charli.”

  I beamed at my friend. “I completely forgot you wanted to stop by. Come on in.”

  “Did I just hear Bennett Raynor?” Nana called out before making her way to the foyer. “You handsome devil, get your behind in here and give me some sugar.”

  Ben pulled open the squeaky screen door and joined us. “Hey, Ms. Vivi.” He kissed her cheek and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

  “Boy, I think you’ve grown.” My grandmother took a good gander at my friend. “Seems to me you’ve turned into a right good lookin’ young man. Wouldn’t you agree, Charli?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She wasn’t wrong, but she was barking up the wrong tree. Ben occupied the same space of love in my heart that I possessed for Matt. My friend might be handsome, but thinking of him in a romantic way made me grimace.

  “Whatcha got there in your hand?” Nana asked.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Well, that’s one of the reasons why I’m here. While I’m in town, I’m helping Jedidiah Farnsworth get organized.”

  “Such a nice boy, helping out Old Jed with his practice.” Nana beamed at my old friend. “I heard tell that he was thinking of retiring after all these years.”

  Ben nodded. “He is.”

  “You considering taking his place?” Barely contained glee rolled off my grandmother.

  “It’s a possibility.” His eyes turned wistful, and I’d give anything to tell what he was thinking about. Or who he was thinking about. Maybe Lily would get her girlhood wish after all. “Why don’t we go have a seat so I can fill you in on a couple of things.”

  Despite his protests, Nana set a place for him and brought in a plate of ham and jelly biscuits. He took one to be polite but didn’t eat it.

  Placing the box on the table, he slid it in Nana’s direction. “This is for you. I think you know what it is.”

  My grandmother stared at the box. “Tipper’s treasure. I was gonna go into town and ask Jed if he’d left anything. This year’s founding ceremony is gonna be interesting to navigate.”

  Matt stared at the box. “You gonna open it?”

  “It’s tempting, but no,” declared Nana with a gasp. “All the founding members choose an item that has both personal worth and is a sacrifice to give. If Tipper were here, I might ask his permission. But it feels wrong to open it without him. How’d you come by it, Ben?”

  My friend folded his hands in front of him on the table. “I’m trying to gather everything for Tipper’s estate together. I found a package in Jed’s office that had been recently delivered there. Inside, there was a note with strict instructions to give the box to you.”

  “Tipper sent his advocate instructions of what to do in case he died?” I asked. The enormity of my great-uncle’s paranoia bloomed in front of me.

  Ben nodded. “Looks like it. I’ve verified the handwriting against some other papers we already had on file.” He looked around at the three of us. “And that means there’s also another problem that’s come to light.”

  Nana got up from the table. “This doesn’t sound good. Let me get some more food and coffee to bolster my spirits.”

  Taking advantage of our grandmother’s absence, my brother and I got down to business.

  “Did you open the box?” Matt asked.

  Ben shook his head. “I was tempted to, but I’m a professional as well as a little superstitious. Remember those stories we were told growing up about what would happen if any of the sacrificed treasures were messed with? Like I want to walk around with the head of a donkey on my shoulders.”

  “That’s from Shakespeare, you dope,” I teased. “And besides, it’s not about what happens to the person who steals the treasure that’s important. It’s what will happen to Honeysuckle. Remember Mrs. Kettlefields and her dramatic warnings?”

  Matt stood up, hunched over like old Mrs. K, and shook his finger at us. “The skies will darken. The waters will rise. And the tree of life will perish,” he croaked in imitation of her shaky voice.

  Nana joined us. “That old witch had no business teaching history to you children.”

  “Come on, Nana, tell us,” I cajoled. “What would happen if one of the founding member representatives didn’t bury a treasure?”

  My grandmother touched the box in front of her. “We haven’t had to test that theory yet, and I have no intention of trying. So, let’s leave it.”

  “What are you using this year?” asked Matt.

  “That’s something I was gonna talk to the two of you about,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Do you want me to leave?” offered Ben.

  She touched his arm. “Of course not. I know I can trust y
ou as a close friend of the family and as a professional advocate.”

  Our friend blushed under the immense trust Nana placed in him. “Honored,” he muttered, tipping his head at her.

  “I was thinking of sacrificing your dad and mom’s rings. If that’s okay with the two of you.” Nana’s eyes searched ours.

  “Their wedding rings?” clarified Matt.

  She nodded. “I know that means neither of you will get to wear them. I’ve been selfish and keeping them in my jewelry box, although I guess I should have offered your dad’s band to you, Matthew.”

  My brother fingered the band already on his finger. “I’m good with the one I have. TJ special ordered our bands so that they match.”

  “And what about you?” Nana looked at me for permission.

  I’d always thought it would be nice to wear Mom’s ring if I ever settled down. She’d never wanted a separate engagement ring, so Dad had gotten her a band with small diamonds encrusted in it. When I was engaged to Tucker, I was supposed to wear a gaudy family heirloom of the Hawthorne’s, which broke my heart. Clementine could wear it for the rest of her life, for all I cared.

  “I think it would mean more if I had someone who wanted to marry me first.” I tried to joke to ignore the weight of sadness when remembering my parents. “But Nana, I thought the family tradition was to sacrifice something that represented knowledge?”

  My grandmother looked at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Blame old Mrs. Kettlefields again. She said that the first treasure that sealed the pact and created the town was a valuable piece of jewelry from the Hawthorne descendant. That represented wealth or good fortune. The Walker descendant sacrificed a pink ribbon from her deceased daughter that she carried with her always to represent the heart of things. And the Goodwin descendant buried a valuable book of some sort to represent knowledge.”

  “Y-e-s,” dragged out Nana. “That’s true. To an extent. And then all of the gifts from each year are known within the families or are passed down to the next family member who takes the place on the council. But it’s absolute hogwash that the chosen items have to represent specifically wealth, heart, or knowledge. That old witch had a few too many bats loose in her noggin’.”