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spies and spells 02 - betting off dead

Page 8

by Kappes, Tonya


  “I told you Maggie, I do not like this.” Vinnie didn’t like anything. “The whole thing not only stinks of hay, dirt, and manure, but evil. None of this is good for my exterior paint job.”

  “And that is why I’m here.” I tossed my hands up in the air when I saw Mick walk out of another stable shooting the breeze with Forest, not realizing my anger shot out of my fingers creating a big thunderclap as the blue skies opened up into a pounding rain.

  Mick ran as fast as his fancy loafer shoes would take him and jerked on the handle.

  “Open up!” He banged on the window. I clicked the unlock button. He jerked again. It was still locked. “Open up! I’m getting soaked.”

  “I’m trying!” I yelled back and bit back the fit of laughter because of the struggle Vinnie and I were having. I’d unlock them and he’d lock them right back. I hit the unlock again.

  “Seriously,” a look of disbelief settled on Mick’s face as the rain streamed down his face. His fancy gelled hair was pasted to his head and covered that adorable widow’s peak. “Please open the door. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

  Magically the doors unlocked.

  “See,” I let out a big sigh. “All you had to do was apologize.”

  “You won’t believe what all they have in these barns.” He rubbed his forearm.

  “Riley has a hankering for you and she did nothing to fix your wound.” I gripped the wheel and let Vinnie go as fast as he wanted to go. I didn’t care what was in the barns.

  “You sound like a wife, nagging me. Do I need to remind you that we are undercover?” Mick grabbed the door handle as Vinnie skidded onto the interstate. “And it’s pouring rain. You are hydroplaning.”

  “Nagging you?” My mouth flung open, my nose snarled, and I rolled my eyes. “You left me standing there in the middle of an auction, not knowing a soul or even giving me a clue on what to do.”

  “You aren’t supposed to do anything. You are to blend in like a layperson and play nice with the wives while I, the spy, go do all the work.” Mick bit back, leaving no room for argument. He was right and I was simply there to assist.

  “I did my job and got us an invite to the cocktail party.” I felt restless and irritable.

  The silence between us was deafening. There wasn’t even a little bit of a spark in me that wanted to be with Mick at this moment.

  “Listen, Maggie,” he reached over and put a hand on my forearm. My muscles tensed by his touch. Vinnie was going faster and faster. By his zipping in and out of lunchtime traffic, I could tell he was in a hurry to get Mick out of the car. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I am. But I got some good time with them that will get us really on the inside. And I got us invited to the Byrds’ cocktail party tomorrow night.”

  “You know what,” I shifted in my seat once Vinnie had pulled up to Mick’s apartment and put it in park. “We are partners that is all. I’m playing a part. You are playing a part. I will do my job. There is no need to scold me. I’ve got this covered.”

  “Alright. Plan on staying for my specialty after-dinner drink so we can discuss everything we’ve got so far.” He jerked the handle open. He got out of the car, bent down and asked, “Pick me up at seven?”

  Before I could answer, Vinnie slammed the passenger door closed.

  Mick stared at me, baffled.

  “It’s an old car.” I shrugged before Vinnie squealed his tires and zoomed off.

  Chapter Nine

  “You didn’t have to be so rude.” I let Vinnie know my displeasure of how he nearly chopped off Mick’s head. “Plus it would’ve been a waste of a cute head if you did behead him.”

  Vinnie’s engine roared in delight.

  “I didn’t like the way he put his arms around you in the barn. He seemed to take more pleasure out of it than business.” Vinnie’s circuits were flashing with anger. “Nor did I like how you felt inside when he left you standing there alone for that half hour.”

  “It’s business. He was in the other barn doing his spy gig.” I reminded him and snapped my fingers to get back into the old clothes I’d had on earlier. I was much more comfortable in the jeans, plaid shirt and cowboy boots than the dress. “I’m so glad I have you to keep me safe.” I rubbed my hand across the dash.

  Vinnie chirped his horn.

  Within a few minutes, he pulled onto Fourth Street and parked in front of The Brew. I was starving and it was right after the lunch crowd had cleared out so it was perfect timing to check on Sherry.

  The bell above the door signaled my arrival.

  I scooted up to the counter next to Joe Farmer, the owner of Farmer’s Dry Cleaners. He was in love with Auntie Meme and always laundered the towels, rugs, and aprons for The Brew. Obviously, Auntie could clean them with a swipe of her hand, but she insisted no magic, except in the kitchen because of her life’s journey.

  “How’s it going, Joe?” I asked.

  “You know. Fair to middlin’.” He kept his eyes focused on the pass-through just in case he could get a glimpse at Auntie. “I’d be much better if Meme would accept my proposal.”

  Auntie looked out and into the dining area. When she saw me, she shot me a reproachful look before she disappeared back into the kitchen. She never liked for me to discuss Joe’s feelings.

  “Hey, good lookin’!” Joe hollered with delight when he saw her. “What‘cha got cookin’?” he sang and smiled.

  “Mercy sakes, Joe,” I said and maneuvered myself up to standing when I saw Sherry venture out of the swinging door with a plateful of today’s special on it. “That’s no way to court my auntie.”

  “Aw, shucks.” He cackled. “She’ll give in one day.”

  I raised a brow, but didn’t say anything. I’d leave it to him to figure it out.

  “How’s it going?” I asked Sherry after she put the four-topper’s food on their table and scurried over to clean up the two-top by the window.

  “Great!” There was a little too much excitement in her voice for me to believe. “I forgot how much I love the food industry. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but this is a great break from it.” She lifted her shoulders to her ears as the corners of her mouth lifted. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ve got another group of four right over there.”

  As I watched her walk over and talk to the customers with a delightful, cheery disposition, I experienced a gamut of perplexing emotions until I figured out exactly what was going on.

  “Auntie Meme,” I whispered lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair on my cheek.

  I strolled back to the kitchen, nodding at a few of the regular customers that were generally here during their lunch hours before I disappeared into the kitchen.

  Auntie Meme’s pots were boiling on the stove with a ladle in each going around and around with no one stirring them.

  “How was your new job?” she asked without turning around to see it was me. She used her witchy senses.

  “It was fine.” I walked over to the pot and looked down. “What spell did you put on her?”

  “Huh?” She turned on her pointy-heeled boots to face me. Her eyebrows dipped in a frown. There was a ball of dough in her hands.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” I couldn’t believe she was going to play dumb with me.

  “Oh.” She curled her wrist, the ball turned into a tray of small petite fours just as Sherry pushed her way in the door.

  “How do you know these things?” Sherry questioned taking the tray from Auntie. “Table twelve just ordered these.” She drew the tray up to her nose and took a nice long whiff. “They smell so good.”

  She scurried back out to the diner.

  “First off, she’s never that chirper, nice or smiles.” I crossed my arms across my chest and waited.

  “There is nothing wrong with a little happiness spell.” Auntie Meme snapped her fingers. The ladles in the pots stopped their circular dance and the contents plated themselves into different sandwiches, soups, and salads the customers had orde
red. They also had the special ingredient Auntie made specifically for them. “It wasn’t like she was unhappy to be here. She said it was for the good of the team that she be here for you. She seemed to be a little complainer and I didn’t want to hear it. Voila. You see what I came up with. A productive, happy employee.”

  Auntie Meme beamed with pride.

  “Now tell me about your day? Because as your Guardian, I’m extremely curious.” She motioned for me to sit down at the small table in the kitchen before she waved her hand through the air, putting a bowl of bean soup and cornbread in front of me.

  While I ate, I told her about how I was playing Mick’s wife. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when I showed her the yellow diamond ring. I also told her how Mick got a little jealous when Forest had hit on me. I shared how I thought it was so funny how Mick invited me for an after-dinner drink so we could discuss everything we’d discovered and how I didn’t understand why we wouldn’t go over everything with Burt at the office. By the look on her face, she did not think it was funny but stayed curious to hear about the rest of my day.

  “I’m not sure how I’m going to be in two places at once tonight.” I leaned back in the chair, suppressing a sigh.

  “Your mother will send you back to the coven if you miss that meeting tonight.” Auntie Meme didn’t tell me something I didn’t already know, though Mom really wouldn’t send me back to the coven. She’d make it hard for me to live under her roof, that was for sure. “You better figure something out and fast. Because it’s going to be six-thirty before you know it.”

  “I wonder what Mick’s special after-dinner drink is?” I couldn’t deny the evidence any longer. I was happier than a tornado in a trailer park to get to spend some time alone with Mick. Even if it was discussing business.

  “Hmmm.” Lines creased on Auntie’s forehead as her brows dipped. “I wonder,” she said in a sarcastic tone that made my insides cringe.

  Chapter Ten

  Before I left the diner, I wanted to make sure that I’d eased Auntie Meme’s uneasiness about Mick and by doing that I got her all riled up about Mrs. Hubbard. She still insisted that Mrs. Hubbard had lied and that she took the special vase Auntie had ordered online.

  Vinnie didn’t bother pulling back down the alley behind the house after we got home from the diner. Since I was going to have to make a quick getaway to meet up with Mick later, he parked on the curb on St. James Street on the side of Belgravia Court, which he hardly ever did.

  Actually, Belgravia Court ran perpendicular to St. James Street, Sixth Street, and Fourth Street, with St. James in the middle. Most tourists came down to St. James Street because there was a beautiful clay angel fountain that had two levels of flowing water. St. James also dead-ended into Central Park, a very happening place for tourists as well. There was always something going on like Shakespeare in the Park, St. James Art Festival, walking tours, and many more.

  The entrance to Belgravia Court off of St. James was spectacular. The garden committee really did keep up the tiled entrance with the large potted ferns flanking each side and kept the wrought iron fencing in perfect shape.

  Vinnie wasn’t fond of sitting on St. James due to the tourists who sometimes couldn’t keep their hands off of him. Vinnie kept himself in mint condition. Even though he’d been in the pouring rain and in a gravel lot next to some stinky barns, you’d never know it. He kept himself spit shined and cleaned.

  Our house was the first one on the right as soon as you entered the court off of St. James. And Mrs. Hubbard’s was right across the green. The trees lined St. James Street and I noticed Miss Kitty perched on a branch in the tallest tree on the side of Mrs. Hubbard’s house.

  “Miss Kitty,” I whistled into the air. “What are you doing?”

  She fixed her gaze on me, batting her long lashes and went back to staring at Mrs. Hubbard’s house as if she were looking down into it.

  I meandered over to her house and stood there as if I were admiring her plastic flower garden and trying to decide if I should knock or not. Before I could even make up my mind, the door flew open and King burst out the door, yipping his little Yorkie head off.

  “Oh, King.” My finger pointed to him in a fluid motion, sending him back to his mom, whimpering and with his tail tucked. “You are a silly dog.” I shook a finger at him, sending a spell for him to instantly like me. “It’s only me. Your friend Maggie.”

  “Don’t you listen to her,” Mrs. Hubbard spat and bent down to try to pick him up right before he darted back down the steps and jumped straight into my arms. She ran her fingers along her pearl necklace. “See, I told you that Maggie is the good one.”

  “I am.” I spoke in my best baby voice to win over Mrs. Hubbard. When I made kissy lips and smacking noises, I held King up in front of me with Mrs. Hubbard in the background and blew kisses his way, only the air from my lips blew an inviting spell past King and right into Mrs. Hubbard’s heart.

  “You know,” Mrs. Hubbard looked a little caught off guard by what she was about to say, “Why don’t you come in and join us for a late afternoon tea.” She walked down the steps and took King from me. “It’s his supper time and with the meeting being at my supper time, I made some late afternoon tea and cakes.” She scooted up the steps and looked back at me. “Well? What are you waiting for? A written invitation?”

  I snickered under my breath and proceeded to follow her before the spell wore off and she changed her mind. I was careful about doing anything other than small spells on anyone in Belgravia Court. These spells wore off in minutes and generally got me what I needed in a fast response. If the spells were a little bigger, it could change the fate of everyone involved and that was not going to be on my hands.

  Mrs. Hubbard’s home had the white gingerbread lattice around all the steps and gutters. Her windows were rounded at the top and had different masonry work to go along with the curves. The details in all the homes on Belgravia Court were vastly different and elegant. I’d say Mrs. Hubbard’s home was probably the biggest.

  Just like our house only bigger, Mrs. Hubbard’s front door opened up into a foyer that was big enough to be its own room. To the right she had a family room bigger than ours and to the left she had a sitting room where a fresh pot of tea steamed from a serving tray on a small table between two chairs. There was a turret room off to the side and the rounded walls were so charming with the windows in a curve. The only thing she had in there was a small orange vase with a white plastic daisy. Other than that, the room was practically empty for its size and I wondered why. It wouldn’t have been for lack of money because it was rumored that Mrs. Hubbard was the wealthiest woman on Belgravia Court. If I considered the source, then maybe the idle gossip was wrong. Regardless, I didn’t see anything that would have been considered something from our coven that would’ve been delivered. Maybe Mrs. Hubbard didn’t take the package and Shay didn’t necessarily see what she thought she saw. Especially since she wore those tiny purple cat-eye glasses that always seemed to be smudged up.

  “In here, Maggie.” Her voice trickled out of a room off the hallway. King yipped from the doorway. When I sauntered into the kitchen, Mrs. Hubbard was bent over the stove taking single cakes off the baking sheet and onto a cooling rack.

  The kitchen was larger than ours and I could only see Auntie in here creating so many new daily specials for The Brew. She was always complaining to Mom how much she needed a bigger experimental space. Mom told her to do it at the diner, but Auntie Meme was terrified that someone was going to see the magic, exactly why she didn’t let me flip my wrist to get everything done quicker.

  Mrs. Hubbard’s white cabinets curled around the white tiled walls. There was a huge center island with a black top.

  “Your kitchen is beautiful.” I ran my hand along the top and kept my eyes peeled out for anything that might resemble a witchy vase that Auntie had ordered. “Auntie Meme would kill for this kitchen.”

  “Interesting you’d say kill and Mem
e in the same breath.” She whisked together some powdered sugar and a few other ingredients before she cut in a couple of eggs. “As sure as shinola, she’s lost her mind.”

  She spread the concoction over the small cakes and plated two: one for me, one for her. I followed her back into the room where the tea had steeped long enough and was ready.

  I eased down into one of the chairs and looked out the window that had a perfect view of the front of our house.

  “You sit in here a lot?” I asked and picked up the cup of tea, but not without noticing a pair of binoculars underneath her chair. King sat down in front of me. His little round black eyes stared.

  “This is our favorite room, right King.” King jumped to his little feet and wagged his tail. He sat down at my feet and kept his eyes on me. “We sit here all day long. In fact, you are in King’s chair.”

  I’m telling you that I’m going to get my vase back one way or another, Auntie Meme’s voice twirled in my head.

  “Are you sure you didn’t see the mailman drop off a package?” I asked and took a bite of the small cake. My mouth watered and I craved another bite. It was the most delicious and moist cake I’d ever tasted. “Mmm.” I pointed to it. “Carrot?”

  Out of the corner of my eye and out the turret window, I saw Miss Kitty land on top of Vinnie as a group of tourists were walking around him. Miss Kitty flapped her wings. The tourists were taking photos of Vinnie and Miss Kitty. I ran my hand over the pendant. Vinnie revved his engine and peeled out of the parking space on the curb and I sent him a message to go park in our garage in the alley behind our house and take Miss Kitty with him.

  “I didn’t see any person deliver anything to your house. And I’m taken aback a bit that you’d come in my home and accuse me of it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that why you came in here being all nice? You might be the most normal of that family, but you certainly aren’t normal like the rest of us and I am going to prove it.”

  She flung her hand up to the side and pointed toward the door. King jumped to his feet and began his yipping and snipping at my feet. The spells had obviously worn off.

 

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