Magic & Mystery (Starry Hollow Witches Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  “Hyacinth,” Tanya said. The fairy office manager couldn’t hide her surprise. “How nice to see you here.”

  Resident elf Bentley Smith jumped from his seat like someone announced a half-price sale on toys. “Hyacinth, what a welcome diversion.”

  Aunt Hyacinth paused. “Diversion?” She examined Bentley closely. “Are you in need of a diversion from your duties here, Bentley?”

  “No, no,” Bentley stammered. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I bit my cheek so as not to laugh.

  She gave him a withering look. “I would think a journalist such as yourself would be able to convey what he means via the use of words. I imagine it’s in the job description.” Precious hissed, punctuating my aunt’s reprimand.

  The associate editor nearly dissolved into a puddle of humiliation right there on the floor.

  “Everything okay, Aunt Hyacinth?” I asked, in an effort to draw attention away from Bentley. As annoying as he was, their interaction was painful to witness.

  “Where’s Alec?” she demanded, surveying the room.

  “Right here,” Alec said, appearing out of nowhere, as usual. Despite his six-foot-two frame, the vampire was lighter on his feet than an astronaut in space. “At your service, as always.”

  “Excellent, my dear,” Aunt Hyacinth said, brightening. “Listen, I need you to investigate the frog situation.”

  Alec’s brow furrowed. “The frog situation?”

  Aunt Hyacinth shot me a quizzical look. “You didn’t tell them?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t want to embarrass Florian.”

  My aunt smiled. “Ember, that’s so considerate. I never expected it from you.”

  Ouch. A smack-handed compliment.

  “Two of Starry Hollow’s most eligible bachelors have been turned into frogs this week,” Aunt Hyacinth continued.

  “And Florian is one of them?” Alec asked.

  My aunt nodded and stroked her familiar. “It happened during our Sunday dinner. One second he was eating and drinking. The next second he was a frog, hopping around the table. The butter had to be disposed of.”

  “Is the sheriff looking into it?” Alec asked.

  “Of course, which is why I want you to add your investigative journalism skills, as well,” Aunt Hyacinth said. “You know how I feel about the sheriff. Werewolves are good for tracking fresh meat, not criminals.”

  No wonder Linnea had fallen out of her mother’s good graces when she’d married a werewolf. It wasn’t simply that Wyatt Nash was a womanizer. Aunt Hyacinth clearly had a chip on her shoulder when it came to shifters.

  “We’d be honored to assist you,” Alec said. “Who’s the other bachelor affected?”

  “Thom Rutledge,” I replied. “An incubus.”

  “Is that so?” Alec asked, rubbing his smooth chin. “How interesting.”

  Aunt Hyacinth hushed her mewing cat. “I expect regular updates.”

  Alec bowed his head slightly. “Of course. Anything for you.”

  She patted his chiseled cheek like he was a chubby toddler. “I knew you’d come through for me. You always do.” She turned around and flicked her finger, causing the door to swing open. Then she swept out of the room without a backward glance, her bright blue kaftan swishing around her ankles.

  Once the door clicked closed behind her, Alec turned to the staff. “I want you both working on this.”

  “Even me?” I asked.

  “Even you, Miss Rose,” Alec replied.

  “She can talk to the sheriff,” Bentley said. “I’ll pull together a list of ex-girlfriends for both men.”

  Alec hesitated. “I think you should handle the sheriff, Bentley. Leave the girlfriends for Miss Rose.”

  “Actually, the sheriff has a list already,” I said. “At least for Florian. My aunt gave it to him on Sunday.”

  “I see,” Alec said, adjusting his cufflinks. “Bentley, request a copy of the list from the sheriff, and then you and Miss Rose can get started on the interviews.”

  “Why can’t Miss Rose…?” Bentley began, but Alec cut him off with a death glare. “Fine,” he relented. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  Alec smoothed the front of his suit jacket. “Very well. Let me know when you identify a solid lead.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, and saluted him.

  He gave me a curious look before disappearing into his office at the back of the room.

  “Why doesn’t he want me to talk to the sheriff?” I asked. “Do I get on his nerves that much? Is Alec afraid it’ll impact the information we get?”

  “Something like that,” Bentley said vaguely. He dialed a number and handed his phone to Tanya. “You can handle the grunt work.”

  Tanya begrudgingly accepted the task. “Hello, I’d like to speak with Sheriff Nash, please. This is Tanya from Vox Populi.”

  Ten minutes later, we had the list of former flames for Florian, as well as for Thom Rutledge.

  “I’m surprised he’s so willing to share the information, considering it’s an active investigation,” I said.

  “It’s because of Florian,” Bentley said. “He knows Hyacinth will be on a rampage until the case is resolved and her son and heir is no longer green and slimy.”

  “Their mucous coating makes them slimy,” I said. Marley had taught me that fact when she’s studied amphibians in third grade.

  “Who cares why?” Bentley said with a huff and proceeded to study the list. “Let’s start with the most recent ones. Their grudges will be the strongest.”

  “Are we going to divide and conquer?” I asked. “You take Thom’s list and I’ll take Florian’s?”

  “I think we should go together,” Bentley said. “At least at first. Make sure you’re asking the right questions.”

  “No way. I know how to ask questions,” I snapped. That was how I managed to figure out how Fleur Montbatten died. I discovered the former Maiden of the coven dead in the woods when I’d first arrived in Starry Hollow. It was because of my questioning of suspects that the cause of her death was finally revealed. Alec had told me then that I had the potential to be a decent journalist. It was the first time anyone had told me I’d be a decent anything, so I wasn’t willing to let Bentley take that away from me now—associate editor or not. Alec Hale was the editor-in-chief, so it was his opinion I was interested in, and not just because he was hotter than all the James Bonds combined.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Bentley said. “Whichever one of us identifies the culprit first gets the byline.”

  “What’s a byline?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “The name that’s credited with writing the story. You really don’t know anything, do you?”

  “I know how to kick you between the legs in a way that will make you cry in a high-pitched voice,” I said. “So I wouldn’t say I’m completely ignorant.”

  Bentley’s hand drifted down to cover his private area. “Noted.”

  I flashed him a saucy smile. “Then we have a deal.”

  Junie Whitaker was a fairy that worked at a salon called Glitter Me This. Stepping through the doors of the salon, I felt like I’d been transported to a version of Oz on steroids. The interior glowed a golden yellow and I seemed to be slapped in the face by wings and glitter everywhere I turned. I gripped the edge of the reception counter in an effort to calm my brain. The room was sensory overload.

  “Welcome to Glitter Me This,” the fairy receptionist said. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No,” I said. “I work for the newspaper and I’m looking for Junie Whitaker.”

  “Junie’s just finishing with a customer,” the receptionist said. “If you’ll take a seat, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

  I sat in the lobby with the other waiting customers. The fairy beside me was discussing wing colors with her friend.

  “I think I want red, white, and blue glitter today,” the fairy said, fluttering her wings. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the sight. It wa
s like hanging out with giant insects.

  “You had that color scheme last month,” the friend said. “I like when you get the fuchsia glitter. You can match that stripe in your hair.”

  Sure enough, the fairy had a narrow section of hair bedazzled with fuchsia glitter.

  “I heard you’re looking for me?” a voice said.

  I glanced up into the face of a pretty fairy. Curly blond hair crowned her head and her top half was busting at the seams. I spotted a trail of purple glitter in her cleavage. I could understand why Aunt Hyacinth was frustrated with Florian. Even in broad daylight, Junie didn’t strike me as the type of date you brought home to Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.

  “Junie?” I asked.

  “That’s right.” She chomped on a piece of gum. “You’re from the newspaper?” She blew a giant bubble and sucked it back in.

  “I am.” I looked around the lobby. “Is there somewhere private that we can talk?”

  “Is this about Adeline’s car?” she asked. “Because I told her I would get it fixed. She didn’t need to go ratting me out. There’s no story there.”

  I blinked. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

  She placed a hand on her hip, her wings fluttering rapidly. “Is it about the incident at the bank? Because I was just having a bad day. I told the bank manager that. It’s only bad press for the bank if they make a fuss.”

  “Junie, if we can talk somewhere privately, I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on. I know a spot.”

  I was surprised when she ushered me into the broom closet. There was barely enough room for two people to stand without pressing into each other. The shelf behind me dug into my back.

  “Okay, we’re somewhere private,” Junie said. Her breath smelled like cherries.

  “Um, I guess we are.” Although it was a little claustrophobic, I soldiered on. “I’m covering a story about eligible bachelors in Starry Hollow being turned into frogs.”

  Her brown eyes popped and she began to laugh. “Frogs? So, if we kiss them, does that mean they turn into princes?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “If so, point me the way to one. I’ll pucker up right now.”

  Right. “Do you know Florian Rose-Muldoon?”

  Her expression immediately soured. “I’m a hot fairy. Of course I know Florian.”

  “He’s been turned into a frog.”

  “That one I’m definitely not kissing,” she said, folding her arms. “I don’t care how much money he has. One night was more than enough.”

  “So you two dated?”

  “That’s an exaggeration,” she said. “We went out once, a week ago. He took me to Elixir, and then we went back to his place.” She sighed. “I’d wanted to see the inside of Thornhold since I was a little girl.”

  “Was it everything you thought it would be?” I asked. The mansion was impressive. I still hadn’t managed to visit every room on the main floor.

  “I only saw Florian’s man cave,” she said, scowling. “He refused to show me the rest of the house. Said his mother didn’t like him to bring unexpected guests around.”

  Well, that much was true.

  “So the date ended badly?” I queried.

  “It ended very well, thank you very much,” she said. “For both of us. But then he didn’t call or return any of my text messages.” She began to pout. “I thought we’d had a wonderful time.”

  “Sounds like you did.”

  “Not wonderful enough, apparently.” She bristled. “It was my own fault. I knew better, but I went out with him anyway.”

  “Do you have any experience with transformation spells?” I asked.

  Junie laughed again. “Me? If I were any good with fairy magic, I wouldn’t be working here, would I?”

  I honestly had no idea.

  Suddenly, the door jerked open and I recognized the smirking face of Sheriff Nash.

  “Rose?” he queried.

  “Rose?” Junie echoed, squinting at me.

  “That’s my first name,” I said quickly. “Rose Marley.”

  The sheriff rolled his eyes. “May I ask what you’re doing in a broom closet with this young fairy?”

  “Hey, I’m young, too,” I objected.

  He heaved a sigh. “It wasn’t meant as an insult, Rose.”

  “Sorry, I just assume everything out of your mouth is meant as an insult.”

  “You know what they say about assumptions,” he said.

  “That joke only works when you say ‘assume,’” I pointed out. “Assumption doesn’t have the letter ‘e’”’

  Junie looked from the sheriff back to me. “Are you two always like this?”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Forget it,” Junie said.

  “I suppose you’re here asking about Florian,” the sheriff said. “Why you’re in a closet doing it, I have no idea.”

  “We’re not doing it in a closet,” I objected.

  “You know what I mean,” the sheriff said.

  “Rose was just telling me about Florian turning into a frog.” Junie stifled a laugh. “Serves him right.”

  “Junie doesn’t have experience with transformation spells,” I told the sheriff.

  “Is that so?” The sheriff gave her an appraising look. “Know anyone who does? I understand there are fairies who accept money for that kind of thing.”

  She blew air from her nostrils. “If you think for one hot minute that I’d waste my hard-earned money turning Florian into a frog, you don’t know the first thing about me. I move on and I don’t look back. Got a date tonight, as a matter of fact.”

  The sheriff wore an amused expression. “You heard the fairy, Rose. She’s innocent. Now, why don’t you step out of the closet?” He paused. “Unless you two are comfortable, of course.”

  Heat burned my cheeks. “Stop blocking the doorway and I’ll be happy to leave.”

  He made a big show of moving aside. “After you.” He tipped his hat at Junie. “Thanks for your help, miss.”

  “No problem.” She flashed him a huge smile. “Let me know if you need anything else from me, Sheriff. Anything at all. I love to be of service to my community.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  I grabbed his elbow and steered him out of the salon. “Next time, knock before you open a broom closet door.”

  “And miss the show?” he teased. “I think not.”

  “There was no show,” I insisted. “I was trying to interview her in private.”

  “You were trying to do something in private.”

  I gave an exasperated groan. “If you’d been doing your job, you would’ve already interviewed her.”

  “I got sidetracked,” he said.

  “By a shiny penny on the ground?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Another frog. This time it was a werewolf.”

  “Friend of yours?”

  “As a matter of fact, yeah. His name’s Cayden Mercer. He’s a member of the pack.”

  “Do you allow frogs in the pack?” I queried.

  “I have no intention of letting him stay a frog,” he said. “As soon as I crack this case, they’ll all get turned back to normal.”

  “I take it Cayden is a playboy,” I said.

  The sheriff nodded. “Worse than my brother.”

  Worse than Wyatt? That was saying something.

  “Do we have a list of recent dates for Cayden that we can cross-reference with Florian’s and Thom’s?” I asked.

  “Already got it,” Sheriff Nash said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket. “There are four names in common. Junie was one of them.”

  “You believe her story?” I asked.

  “Didn’t hear all of it. Seems like you did, though,” he replied.

  “I did.”

  “I’ll accept that.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “You seem to have a pretty good minotaur shit detector. I
’ll move on to the other girls and circle back to Junie if nothing pans out.”

  “So, who’s next?” I asked, reaching for the list.

  “No, no.” He slid the list into his back pocket. “This is my investigation, Rose.”

  “But I need to cover the story for the paper,” I said, trying to retrieve the list from his pocket.

  He grabbed my hand before it reached his pocket. “I know it’s enticing, but you’ve got to learn to keep your hands to yourself.”

  “You don’t understand. Aunt Hyacinth specifically requested it.”

  He stopped moving but continued to hold my hand. “Your aunt asked you to investigate?”

  “Not me,” I said. “The paper. Bentley is working on it, too.”

  His expression clouded over. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  I cleared my throat and he gave me a quizzical look. I inclined my head toward his hand, still gripping mine.

  “Sorry,” he said, and let go.

  I had to admit, I liked the feel of his hand clutching mine. I quickly brushed the thought aside. Good thing he wasn’t telepathic.

  “Can I please go with you?” I asked. “I promise I’ll be more of a help than a hindrance. I don’t want to disappoint my aunt. I’m new to the family, and you know what that’s like.”

  “I do,” he said darkly. His brother had been an unwelcome addition to the Rose clan when he’d married Linnea. Their subsequent divorce was a blessing in Aunt Hyacinth’s eyes, and a relief in Linnea’s, although Wyatt seemed to delight in making himself a nuisance.

  “So that’s a yes?” I asked eagerly.

  He exhaled loudly. “Fine. You can come, but let me do the talking.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, but not before crossing my fingers behind my back.

  Chapter 4

  Dakota Musgrove was as far from a showy fairy as you could get. She was a dryad, which, according to Marley, meant she was a tree nymph. When I said she was probably very down-to-earth, Marley clapped her hands over her ears and groaned. Mom jokes never ceased to amuse me.