spies and spells 02 - betting off dead

by Kappes, Tonya

  I eased down onto the chair and tucked the hem of the robe under my legs.

  “Maggie, I hope you are hungry. You have a big morning.” Mom’s eyes drew down on me; it was like looking in the mirror because we had the same almond-shaped black eyes and oval face. Our hair was the same, long and black and she could pass as my sister. The only difference was her high cheekbones, like Lilith’s, compared to my round ones that made me look younger than I really was.

  My eyes narrowed wondering idly what Mom was talking about. My life was pretty much the same every day. Go to work at our family diner, The Brew, take orders, and deliver the food. I wasn’t much of a cook and although I tried, I could burn water. Auntie was the cook and I couldn’t say that she was so much of a great cook that kept our diner hopping as much as she’s a great witch with wonderful taste-bud spells. Lilith had worked there until she recently took over a local makeup company called Mystic Couture. She spent most of her days at the office working with Tessa, the owner, leaving me to do all the duties at The Brew, which was probably what Mom was talking about.

  “This sure does look good.” Abram looked around the table and took his helping of biscuits, scooping spoons full of gravy and interrupting the odd silence between the Park women. He hovered over his plate and dug right on in with his fork.

  Auntie and Mom disappeared from the room leaving me and Abram alone.

  “Hey.” He leaned over. He wiggled his fingers in the air. “Can you do that oggly-boogly on Boomer again like you did when we were kids?”

  A terrifying realization rushed over me. As much as I had hoped that Abram had forgotten what I’d done, he hadn’t.

  “You pinky swore.” My mood veered sharply to anger. “You pinky swore,” I said again.

  “Oh.” He shrugged and went back to stuffing his face with the gravy soaked biscuits. His mouth full, he said in a muffled voice, “Well, it didn’t hurt to ask. And you are super testy. Plus, I pinky swore before you told me all about your involvement with SKUL and Mick Jasper.”

  My heart did a flip-flop before it skipped a beat and nearly stopped.

  A few months ago I’d gotten into a little pickle with a little known division of Interpol called SKUL, Secret Keepers of the Universal Laws. You could say I was at the wrong place at the wrong time or sticking my witchy nose where it didn’t belong; either way, Auntie Meme had sent Abram my way when I’d gone to look for Mick Jasper, the spy for SKUL who I had started to inadvertently help after SKUL had decided I would make a good informant for them due to my everyday, all-American-girl look. Little did they know I was a witch. Regardless, I had confided in Abram about my role and how Mick Jasper played into it, keeping the truth about my involvement with Mick from my family.

  “Listen,” I put my hand over his mouth. I whispered knowing Auntie and Mom were probably in the hall listening because I could guarantee this was not a chance meeting this early in the morning because I’d never seen Abram up at the break of dawn, “We have to talk about this later.”

  “Later?” Mom walked in. “You two are meeting up later?” Her voice escalated as she drummed her fingertips together.

  “Dinner sounds perfect.” Auntie Meme swept into the room. “And I’ll even let Maggie leave work early so she can get ready for your date.”

  “Wait.” I jumped up. “We didn’t say anything about a date.”

  “Date.” Abram shrugged and smiled. “That sounds about perfect.” He scooted his chair back and stood up. “I’ll see you tonight, little lady.”

  “No, no, you won’t and I’m not little lady.” I followed on his heels down the hallway, my body rigid, my fists tensed.

  “I’ll be here around three, early supper.” He turned at the door and looked at me. Satisfaction pursed his lips.

  I slammed the door. A thunderbolt jagged through me.

  “This is working out splendidly,” Mom’s voice trilled from the kitchen. “With that Mick out of the way, we will have you married off in no time.”

  “Married off?” My footsteps thundered down the hall as I stalked back to the kitchen. “There will be no wedding to Abram Callahan.”

  I had completely ignored the Mick comment.

  “Maggie,” Mom drew near me and curled her arm around my shoulder. “Auntie and I were talking and we just don’t think you are cut from the same cloth as we are. We know.” She twirled her wrist around. “We know you had your Witchy Hour, but it proved to be a little off kilter since you haven’t really found your life’s journey.”

  “Cut from the same cloth?” A laugh raked my insides.

  Hearing the words Mick and Witchy Hour in the same sentence startled my insides. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about Mick Jasper over the past couple of months, of course I did, but as the weeks had gone by and I’d yet to hear from him, so had my thoughts. I’d kept myself busy at The Brew, especially now since my sister Lilith was no longer working there. Auntie Meme had yet to hire anyone new in fear of them figuring out that no matter what kind of mood the customer was in when they walked through the door, they left the diner with a full belly and a happy soul, all due to Auntie’s special spelled ingredients she meticulously served in her food.

  “Mick Jasper? Witchy Hour.” I shook my head.

  Yes. I’d had my Witchy Hour while I was working undercover for SKUL, which by the way wasn’t by choice. Mick Jasper was a sneaky little handsome devil. He’d looked into our family diner and our lives when I’d refused to help him after I’d gotten myself entangled in his investigation. Of course there were no records of us. We were a family of witches.

  My mom had moved us to Old Louisville. By day Lilith and I went to regular school and by night Mom and Auntie Meme held witch school for us. We’d blended in just like everyone else. Auntie Meme’s life’s journey was to cook and create, so it was natural for her to whip her wrist and turn an old building in downtown Louisville into a diner. Mom was more on the Mother Nature side of the life’s journey so she grew all the special ingredients Auntie Meme needed along with keeping our yard looking beautiful. Then there was Lilith. Her life’s journey had ended up being in the natural beauty field and using products that didn’t hurt the skin or the earth so her job at Mystic Couture was perfect.

  Then there was me. I had my Witchy Hour as soon as I started my little adventure with SKUL. Mick Jasper hadn’t found any paid taxes or even the sale of the building to our family, so he held it over my head until I agreed to work with SKUL. I wasn’t sure if working for SKUL was my life’s journey so I’d kept it to myself and pretended that Mick was my boyfriend and that was why I was spending so much time with him.

  Mom and Auntie’s witchy senses went to hell in a hand basket and they did everything they could to split us up. That’s where Abram fit in and I was sure where this marriage thing was coming from.

  “I haven’t seen Mick in months. And my life’s journey has obviously been put on hold since I have to work Lilith’s shift at the diner.” It sounded reasonable enough, though we all knew the Witchy Hour, the hour where my mortal world and witch world had collided—which just so happened to be when I met Mick—had already reared its head and alerted us to the fact I’d found my journey.

  Mom’s dark watchful eyes missed nothing. She stared at me as I rambled. I felt like a cat in a bag.

  “Ha!” I had to come up with some dazzling leap of logic. I moved past them and down the hall. “Me and Abram? Ridiculous. I’m not even attracted to him.” I wagged my finger in the air behind me and jogged up the two flights of steps to my room.

  Mick Jasper. I rubbed my finger and thumb together. I could almost feel the spark we’d shared when I touched him.

  “Mick Jasper,” I whispered and lifted my finger to my lips to try to stop saying his name, but it was music to my ears. “Mick Jasper.”

  Chapter Two

  The crisp fall morning breeze gently blew the curtains into my bedroom and whooshed down, snapping me out of my thoughts. Something told me that it wasn�
�t going to be long until I saw Mick Jasper again.

  With a swipe of my hand and a cute outfit later, I’d grabbed my clutch off the counter, the bottles of ingredients Mom had left in a bag for me to take to the diner for Auntie’s daily specials and headed out into the early morning dew.

  “Good morning, Maggie.” Vinnie, my red 1965 AC Cobra car-slash-familiar greeted me when I got into the car. “You are awfully dressed up for serving coffee and biscuits.”

  “You are very observant.” I buckled my seat belt and tapped on Vinnie’s dash to make all his circuits light up. It wasn’t that I needed to type in where I was going this morning, it was the same every morning, but it kept my hands busy and it kept Vinnie from really trying to read my body language. Mick was on my mind. “I thought that a cute sweater would be a nice change.”

  Fall weather in Kentucky is akin to Mother Nature with PMS. She didn’t know whether it should be hot, cold, rainy or snowy. On any given fall day she’d change the weather through all the seasons and cackle while we tried to dress for her. I had chosen, by the swipe of my witchy hand, a turtleneck brown form-fitting sweater to go with a pair of my skinny jeans and tall brown boots. Normally I’d wear the regular black pants, black shirt and comfortable shoes, but today my gut told me to wear something different.

  As much as I wanted to believe it wasn’t about a certain hunky spy, I knew differently.

  “This isn’t going to be a good day.” Vinnie jerked forward, speeding off down the alley, making a quick right on Sixth Street without stopping to check oncoming traffic.

  “Vinnie!” I scolded him and reached out to flip on the manual switch after a barrage of honking cars and skidding tires echoed from behind us. “Are you having a bad morning?”

  “Don’t flip my switch. You’ve already done enough damage this morning.” Vinnie slowed to the regular speed limit before he took a left on Hill Street.

  “What on Earth are you talking about?” I adjusted myself in the seat and held on to the wheel.

  “There is a foul odor under my hood and the last time I felt this angry in my pistons. . .” Vinnie’s voice trailed off as soon as he pulled up to the curb on Fourth Street, right in front of The Brew. “It was because of that Mick Jasper.”

  “Mick Jasper?” I laughed before there was a tap on the passenger’s side window and I nearly jumped right out of the cute outfit. “Mick Jasper.”

  I blinked. I blinked again, this time a little harder. He stood there gazing into my private space. I gulped. It’d been a few months since I looked into those blue eyes and totally forgotten the effect they really did have on me.

  Mick Jasper.

  “What are you doing here?” I met his flinty gaze head-on when I got out of the car and used the fake key fob to make Vinnie beep like I was locking him. I gripped the bag of ingredients and my clutch.

  Vinnie didn’t take too kindly to it, so he set his alarm off.

  “Turn off the alarm.” Mick looked over my shoulder at Vinnie’s flashing lights blinking on and off before Vinnie decided to pop his hood up and down for dramatic effect. “I swear you need a new mechanic.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged and ran around to the front pushing the hood closed with a very firm palm smack, giving Vinnie the you-better-knock-it-off sign. “It’s an—”

  Mick interrupted, “Old car. You’ve said that several times when strange things happen.”

  “I probably do need to keep it in the shop for days.” Mysteriously the honking horn alarm and flashing lights went off.

  “Just like that.” Mick gestured to the car. “You say something like you are going to take it to the shop and it stops like it hears you.”

  “Huh.” I tilted my head, duck billed my lips and furrowed my brows as if he were on to something. I was pretty good at pretending to be a mortal around him. Scary had it’d been natural. “So,” I rocked back on my boot heels. “We don’t open for another half hour.”

  As much as I tried to ignore her, Auntie Meme was in the front window of The Brew flailing her arms above her head trying to get my attention. I knew she needed me to get the dining room ready for the customers and Mick was taking that time.

  “I’m not here for the biscuits and gravy or the feel good mood that I seem to get when I’m here.” He stepped back and narrowed his eyes. “Burt sent me here. He said that he needs to see you.”

  “Oh.” I rubbed my hands together. “Another case?” I elbowed him. “Partner.”

  “First off, I don’t know what he wants because I’m already on a case. Secondly, we aren’t partners. I’m just the messenger.” He looked up and down Fourth Street. “Be at SKUL headquarters at three o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Aye-aye.” I clicked my boot heels together.

  “And remember that you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Including your Auntie Meme who is desperately trying to get your attention behind me.” Mick Jasper was very observant which made him a good spy. “So you better come up with something better than I’m your boyfriend because I won’t be around.”

  I stood there and happily watched him walk down the street and get into the maroon beat-up Caprice he drove. It was by far and away a better way to wake up my lazy body than a cup of coffee.

  “We’ll see about that.” My brows rose in obvious pleasure and I blew a stream of wind in his direction before he sped off.

  If I was going to have to do some work for SKUL, it was going to be with Mick. I was going to make sure of that, whether he wanted to or not.

  Bang, bang, bang. Auntie Meme pounded on the window with a flat palm. I ran inside.

  “Your mama isn’t going to be none too happy.” Auntie Meme rosy red cheeks deepened. Her black eyes impaled me. She stuck her fingers in her flaming red hair and fluffed it even higher.

  “Why? Because Mick Jasper came to see me and asked me out.” A big snake-like grin grew on my face. Liar, liar I thought to myself knowing it would send Auntie Meme into a tizzy.

  “I’m just your great auntie, I don’t know anything.” She shrugged.

  “But a wonderful great auntie who likes to make sure her great niece is super happy and isn’t stuck with Abram Callahan when she’d much rather be talking to Mick Jasper.” It was my way of asking her to keep my little meeting with Mick a secret. “Besides,” I lifted my hand in the air. “There’s nothing to tell. He only wants to talk to me this afternoon.”

  I twirled my wrist to the right and then Auntie Meme grabbed it, flinging it down to my side. She grabbed the bag of ingredients from my other hand.

  “No magic.” Her eyes were alight like a fire, somewhat like an arsonist’s. “I told you no magic. Fill the condiments yourself.”

  “What good is being a witch if we can’t use our magic?” I walked past her and grabbed the condiment caddie from underneath the counter. “Seriously, with the swipe of my hand.”

  “You and I both know that there are people everywhere that could be walking by and happen to see you do the tiniest bit of magic and then we’d be exposed.” She sauntered back to the kitchen and disappeared into the kitchen where she did her life’s journey. “You can never use magic in the real world, Maggie. Even when you figure out your life’s journey.”

  I walked around the retro diner, going from table to table filling up the sugar, salt, and pepper shakers. I placed a napkin in front of each chair along with a fork, spoon, knife and a frosted plastic cup. Each table had their own retro design and they all had the metal stripping around the edges with metal chairs with the plastic-sparkly chair seats. The black-and-white tile floor finished The Brew’s retro diner look Auntie Meme was going for.

  “So,” I nagged at Auntie Meme to get the heat off of me. “What on Earth were you fighting with Mrs. Hubbard about so early this morning?”

  Auntie popped her head through the window between the kitchen and the dining room. Her cheeks were sprinkled with flour and her hair looked as if she’d dusted underneath a couch, which was out of her charact
er since most of her cooking was done with magic. I eyed her suspiciously.

  “That old bat.” Auntie Meme’s hand flew up in the air, a spark of lightning shot out, exploding into a tiny firework with a bat popping out of it. I ducked when it flew over my head. I ran toward the door and pushed it open just in time for the creature to fly out.

  “I guess you are mad,” I snorted. “What on Earth did she do?”

  “I had a hankerin’ something was wrong when I didn’t receive my package I ordered. I should fuss at my ownself because I knew I should’ve ordered it from a coven instead of that big online retailer everyone squawks about, especially since the neighborhood gossip circle wonders why we never get packages in the mail or the mailman never stops.” She tsked.

  We didn’t receive mail or even know what it was about. In fact, we didn’t even have a mailbox, but for all the gossip circle of Belgravia Court knew we might’ve had a P.O. Box, even though we didn’t.

  “Anyways, I need a special vase for the spell circle. It was guaranteed to do the trick and there was only one left on that online retailer. I did the mortal thing and ordered, anxiously awaiting the delivery man to deliver it around the four o’clock afternoon time so when those henny-hens were gathered and clucking away, they’d see us getting a package.” Auntie Meme’s eyes hooded like a hawk. “I was too late getting home yesterday to get my package. There was this note on the door.” She pulled a yellow slip of paper from her apron and held it through the pass-through window.

  I walked over and took it from her. The slip said they’d delivered the package to the neighbor.

  “You know I don’t like to socialize much, so I went door-to-door on Belgravia Court asking if any of them had my package. Not a single one said yes or admitted to it. But I got me a clue.”

  When she said clue a pain struck my heart with a sick and fiery gnaw that told me Auntie Meme was not good at sleuthing and this was a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Shay Hannagan down at 212 Belgravia Court,” Auntie spouted off Mrs. Hannagan’s address, “told me that she saw the one and only Gladys Hubbard scurrying across Belgravia Court from our house to hers. Not just a little walk, she was practically running with a package under her arm around the same time I was supposed to get a delivery.”