Wicked by Any Other Name

by Linda Wisdom

  Stasi looked at her friend, whose attention was focused on a man seated near the front, directly in their line of sight. His faded blue plaid flannel shirt was open over a khaki T-shirt tucked into jeans that looked molded to his body. His black hair was thick and had a slight wave to it as he impatiently pushed it out of his face.

  “Blair, you’re drooling,” she murmured.

  “Not even close,” she replied in a voice too soft for anyone to overhear. “More like imagining him wearing his tool belt and nothing else.”

  Stasi looked down at her lap to hide her grin. Blair had set her sights on the town’s hunky handyman more than a year ago and so far, she had failed in her attempts to wangle even a coffee date. Jake was willing to come in and build new shelves for her and he’d even fixed their building’s outside stairs, but alas, that wasn’t enough for Blair. She was presently plotting—uh—planning what she could next hire him to do for her. Stasi’s money was on Blair, since when the witch was on a mission she never failed. Just like the Canadian Mounted Police, she always got her man.

  Stasi looked for Mrs. Benedict. The gray-haired widow sat near the front pointedly ignoring Stan Chalmers, who sat next to her. Every time he leaned over to whisper something in her ear, she turned away. Stasi hid a smile. Mrs. Benedict wasn’t going to make it easy for her suitor to get back in her good graces after his defection to the bakery.

  “And lastly, we anticipate our haunted town will generate more tourism this year than we have in the past. We do hope all the business owners will participate by wearing period costumes as in the mid-eighteen hundreds.” Marva directed her arrow-like gaze straight at Stasi and Blair, bringing both witches back to what was going on.

  “We always wear costumes during October, Marva,” Blair piped up. “It’s just with my shop offering retro merchandise from all time periods, I like to cover all the decades instead of just the Gold Rush period.”

  Marva smiled thinly. “Which you can do all the other months of the year, can’t you, dear?” Problem summarily dismissed, she turned to the rest of the group. “Now, we’d also like some volunteers to help us with the refreshments for the dance.”

  “Why is so much of this coming up this late?” Blair muttered. “We’re usually discussing this ad nauseam in August.”

  “Marva had her gallbladder surgery then,” Stasi whispered. “She refused to hand over her duties to anyone else while she recovered and insisted this could be done in the one meeting.”

  “They want a costume? Fine, I’ll give them just what they want,” Blair muttered. “I’ll wear those pajamas with the trap door in the back and borrow Fluff and Puff.”

  Stasi covered her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back her giggle. The magickal bunny slippers hadn’t been too welcome in Moonstone Lake since the day they’d slipped into Floyd’s precious Escalade and left bunny droppings everywhere.

  A silver-haired woman seated in front of them, whom they knew to be a good friend of Agnes,’ turned around to direct a frown at them. Blair mouthed sorry! while Stasi offered an apologetic smile.

  “Poppy and I are only too happy to help out with refreshments.” Reed Palmer stood up. More than one woman smiled at his tall figure. He was nattily attired in dark slacks, a white shirt with faint green stripes, and a dark green v-necked sweater, and his dark auburn hair gleamed under the lights. He may have appeared to be every woman’s dream, but there were a couple of witches who didn’t see him that way. “We can make up all sorts of holiday themed treats for the dance.”

  Marva beamed her thanks and went on to other matters.

  Fully aware that Reed’s gaze had turned to her before he sat down, Stasi kept her eyes straight ahead. Almost from the moment of his arrival in the small town, the bakery owner had let it be known to Stasi he was more than a little interested and had tried more than once to get her to go out with him. She never liked hurting anyone’s feelings, but she was ready to flat out tell him to leave her the hell alone.

  She didn’t know why she disliked the man. There was nothing she could point to, there was just something about him that bothered her. She knew Blair would have no problem letting him know she wasn’t interested, but Stasi was always afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. She hadn’t dated in some time, mostly because no man had attracted her interest.

  But that didn’t stop Reed from heading straight for Stasi at the snack table after the meeting.

  “Must be nice to have a persistent admirer,” Blair murmured with a wicked grin as she made a quick turn of her own in the direction of Jake Harrison.

  “Some friend you are.” Stasi’s dour mutter quickly turned into a smile as she spun around when her name was called. She grabbed her coffee cup with both hands to keep the hot liquid from sloshing over her hands.

  “It’s good to see you, Stasi.” Reed’s smile tended to trip the ladies’ hearts, but Stasi was happy to be immune to the man’s charm. “You look lovely tonight.”

  I’m wearing a sweater that’s more than ten years old, my jeans are ripped in the knees, and I have on hiking boots that should have been tossed in the trash years ago. Not to mention I’m wearing a ponytail that makes me look like I’m still in high school and I left off all makeup but lip balm. “Thank you, Reed; words every woman loves to hear.”

  He bent his head down toward hers. “I was able to obtain tickets to the Bon Jovi concert playing down at the casino next weekend, and I hoped you might like to go with me.” His teeth flashed white.

  She rubbed her nose to stop the tickling sensation she always felt when Reed got too close to her. She wasn’t sure what cologne he wore, but she always felt the need to sneeze anytime Reed moved into her personal space.

  “I’m so sorry, Reed, but Blair and I have plans for this weekend,” she lied without one ounce of guilt. “We have company coming soon and we need all our free time to prepare for them.”

  If she hadn’t been looking at him directly she would have missed the flash of what she swore was fury in his forest-green eyes.

  What’s he so mad about? I hate lies and I’m having to give him a whopper. If anything, I should be mad at him for making me lie! she rationalized.

  “If I’d had more notice I could have rearranged things, but I can’t leave Blair to do all the work herself.” She started feeling a nasty pinch under her arm. If Reed hadn’t been quick enough to grab her coffee, it would have spilled on both of them. He moved it to the table where it sat out of danger. She mentally zapped a stinging pinch back to Blair.

  “Since my sister would feel the same way, I can understand.”

  “Reed.” A woman with auburn hair that positively shimmered under the lights stepped up and placed her hand on his arm. The look she flashed Stasi felt like a challenge, although Stasi wasn’t sure why.

  “Rhetta, this is Stasi Romanov. She’s one of our local shop owners, along with her friend Blair. Stasi, this is my twin sister, Amaretto. Rhetta for short.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of you.” Rhetta’s smile was borderline glacial.

  And I’m sure not one word was good and I just bet you’re not too happy that your brother is pursuing me, either. Stasi’s smile gave away nothing of her thoughts. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I know Poppy was happy you would be visiting.”

  Rhetta turned to her brother. “Agnes wants to talk to you.”

  Reed nodded. He paused before he moved away with his twin. “I don’t give up easily.” His smile was supposed to make it a tease, but Stasi felt as if she was being stalked.

  She breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone.

  “These cookies are so good. I don’t know what Reed and his sister put in them, but I swear I have more energy after I have a few of these.” Marva bustled up and set several oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on her plate. She arched a questioning eyebrow at Stasi.

  Stasi shook her head. “I already
had a couple.” She wondered how many more lies she’d be telling before the evening was over.

  “Then you have much better willpower than I do,” Marva chuckled. “I don’t know how you can stop.” She paused long enough to pick up a cinnamon muffin. “Roger! We need to talk about the play!” she called out, hurrying after her prey.

  Stasi picked up her coffee and sipped the hot brew while she watched the byplay between Blair and Jake. Blair moved forward and Jake moved back.

  “Why do I feel as if I’m looking at me and Reed?” she murmured. “It’s not just Reed, I don’t want anyone.”

  As if her words triggered the sight, dancing red hearts seemed to flash before her eyes. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she could clearly see Trevor Barnes standing beneath the hearts in all his glorious splendor. She closed her eyes tightly, but the image only became more intense. Stasi swallowed the squeak that threatened to erupt even as the coffee turned to acid in her throat.

  I should have sicced Cupid on Carrie. He never likes anyone screwing up their love lives, and I bet he could have done a real number on her.

  ***

  Trev didn’t like the unsettling feeling that was churning his stomach as he drove back to LA the next day. He preferred his life sane and orderly, and right now it didn’t feel like that. He soon reached the parking garage below the high-rise building in Century City that housed the law offices of Grimm, Barnes, Conover, and Fisteen. While the centuries-old business didn’t openly advertise themselves as wizards—after all, wizards weren’t actively trolling for business—it wasn’t a state secret, either. Anyone making an appointment knew the senior partners only appeared in Wizards’ Court, while a few of the associates dealt with mortal cases, and any dealings between supernaturals and mortals.

  He drove into the garage, pulled the Jag into his reserved parking space, and headed for the express elevator that served the penthouse offices. He’d had a leisurely dinner at the resort the night before, followed by a couple of hours flirting with a sexy brunette in the bar. He’d been sorely tempted to ask her to spend the night with him, but found he couldn’t voice the words. Instead, he slept alone.

  No surprise that Mae greeted him in the reception area. He never questioned the fact that his assistant always knew when he was in the building. He called it part of her charm. She held out a large, steaming cup of coffee to him. He accepted the coffee while she took his briefcase.

  “What was Ms. Romanov like?” she asked, following him down the hallway.

  “Stubborn, determined to fight the case, and she has no clue what she’s in for.” He walked into his office and set his coffee cup down on his desk. “Do you have the information I requested?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Something in Mae’s voice had him turn around. The look on her face bothered him. Her expression held a shade of smug along with a hint of smirk and, if he wasn’t mistaken, downright amusement.

  Namely, she knew something that she enjoyed and she knew he wouldn’t like.

  “Ms. Romanov’s history has been downloaded to your computer. I’m sure you’ll have many enjoyable hours of reading, since she has been in the mortal world since the year 1313 when she was expelled from the Witches’ Academy along with her classmates,” Mae said briskly.

  “Did you find out what those damn hearts mean?” He watched with horrified fascination as her smile just grew bigger and bigger and her eyes twinkled with merriment. The feeling grew that it wasn’t news he wanted to hear.

  “Honestly, Trevor, have you forgotten the bedtime stories you heard as a boy? No, I guess this one was aimed more for witchlings and young sorceresses.” Mae moved to a nearby chair and sat down. She peered over her narrow rimmed eyeglasses. “But you are a clever man with a very intelligent brain. Tell me something, when do we see red hearts everywhere?”

  “Valentine’s Day, when Cupid has his say and you remind me I need to buy chocolates for the female staff,” he grumbled. “So because the witch plays with romance, she’s in league with that romance radical?”

  Mae chuckled. “Oh no, Cupid has always worked alone, but I’d say that he has other ideas.”

  Trev rubbed his forehead with his fingers. A headache was rapidly blooming. “Just spit it out, Mae,” he snapped, picking up his cup and sipping his coffee, which suddenly tasted bitter.

  “Cupid’s way of letting someone know they’ve met their true love is to arrange red hearts over their heads. And if you saw red hearts over her head, she must have seen the same over yours.”

  Luckily, Mae had made sure she was seated far enough back that the spray of coffee from Trevor’s mouth didn’t hit her. She waited serenely as Trev stared at her as if she’d well and truly lost her mind.

  “Bloody hell!”

  ***

  “Excuse me. Ma’am. Ma’am.”

  Stasi felt as if she needed a crowbar to lift her heavy lids. Why had she eaten those cookies? She knew that the cookies from the bakery never set well in her stomach. But Reed had tracked her down and offered them to her personally. She’d had no polite way to refuse them. At least she’d only eaten two, but she’d still gotten an upset stomach that even her favorite ginger tea didn’t help.

  “Ma’am?”

  She opened one eye a slit and stared at the transparent figure standing at the bottom of her bed. Bogie stirred from his curled up position by her hip and growled. Stasi stroked his back, soothing his distrust of the uninvited visitor.

  “Fergus?” Her voice was raspy. “It’s too early.”

  The man—a boy really, no more than seventeen years of age—was dressed in dirt-stained trousers and faded red flannel shirt. His battered hat sat on wispy blond hair, and there was no mistaking the freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and the smallpox scars dotting his forehead. He was so young only peach fuzz dotted his cheeks.

  “I’m sorry to come in here to your bedroom, ma’am, but somethin’s wrong.” He blushed hotly as he pulled off his hat and held it between his hands. His hair stuck up in unruly spikes that had nothing to do with fashion, since that style wasn’t in vogue in 1854. “We’re all feelin’ it.” He blushed again as Stasi pushed her hair away from her face and sat up.

  She knew his mentioning all of them had nothing to do with the living residents of the mountain town. “And you came to me because?”

  “You and Blair are the only ones who can see us.”

  She exhaled a deep breath, forcing her sleep-heavy brain awake. “I don’t need a boy who’s been dead for 140-odd years in my bedroom before I’ve had coffee. Why didn’t you wake up Blair?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other. “She’s—uh—she’s—”

  Stasi waved a hand, fully understanding his discomfort. Blair had been so tired the previous night, Stasi figured Blair had pretty much shed her clothes on the floor and flopped naked into bed. The sight of a nude female was obviously more than boyish—and virginal—Fergus could handle.

  Stasi glanced at the clock and was happy to realize that the coffeemaker would already have a pot of coffee brewed. “Okay, I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes. She released a sigh as the ghost didn’t move but continued to stare at her lace-covered breasts. She wished she hadn’t opted to wear her favorite creamy yellow silk nightgown. “Now, Fergus!” He was gone in the blink of an eye.

  “Why can’t someone else deal with the spirits this time of year?” Stasi mumbled, pushing aside her pastel pink and blue duvet and stumbling out of bed with the bathroom in mind. In record time she brushed her teeth and hair, pulled on her mint green fleece robe, and found her slippers. Once that was done she headed down the hallway and stopped at the open doorway to Blair’s room. All she saw was a lump under the covers and a lace-edged pillow pulled over Blair’s head. How Fergus knew she was naked was a mystery to Stasi. But ghosts seemed to know things, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know how. “Why
don’t you wake up, Auntie Blair, sweetie,” she suggested, watching Bogie glide through the room and hop up first onto Blair’s bed and then onto Blair’s back. The dog’s barking was high-pitched enough to shatter glass as he jumped up and down on a now awake and cranky Blair, while a softly laughing Stasi headed toward the kitchen.

  “This is so mean, Stasi!” Blair shouted.

  “So was you sending Fergus to me!” Stasi called back. “Once you’ve got some clothes on, come out to the kitchen.”

  She found Fergus seated on a chair at the table. He hopped up and pulled his hat off the minute she entered the room. Except, when he hopped up, his body slid through the kitchen table and the crystal bowl set in the center. The display of silk fall leaves and pussy willows didn’t even move.

  Stasi shook her head and headed straight for the coffee. “Sit down, Fergus.” She poured herself a cup of cinnamon-flavored coffee and took a chair. “And don’t call me ma’am again.”

  “Yes, ma’—. Yes, Miss Stasi.”

  She sighed. She figured that would be the best the young man could do and it didn’t make her sound as if she was sitting in a rocking chair knitting a shawl. “Fine, we’ll go with that. Now, what’s going on?”

  Blair walked in wearing a hot pink silk robe worthy of a 1930s film star and matching high-heeled marabou trimmed mules. The glamorous effect was ruined by her serious case of bed head as she dug her fingertips into her scalp and rubbed vigorously.

  “What are you doing here so early, Fergus?” Like Stasi, she didn’t hesitate in pouring her caffeine fix. She waved the ghost down when he started to stand up again. “I swear you were the only male back then who had manners. October is next month and you all usually don’t show up until then.” She plopped into the chair across from Stasi and yawned widely. “At least bump up the heat.” She wiggled her forefinger at the thermostat, which obligingly moved upward, and warm air wafted out of the vents.

  “There are things goin’ on, ma’am.” He shot a quick look at Stasi. “Sorry. Anyway, there’s somethin’ goin’ on in our realm. It ain’t the same as it’s been before and we all feel real unsettled like.”