“Sweetened iced, if you have it.”
I pull out a pitcher of just that. “Dr. Sutcliffe, you are south of the Mason-Dixon. I dare you to find a home without cold sweet tea in the fridge.”
“Well, I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he says, trying to copy my accent.
I pour. “You are forgiven. This once,” I say, handing him a glass. I guess flirting is like riding a bike, though I never thought I’d learned in the first place. “Save any lives today?”
“Not really. Things are pretty quiet around here.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
He shrugs. “A little of both. I wanted a slower pace, and I got it,” he says, not sounding all together thrilled. “It’s just different.”
“What made you decide on Goodnight?” I ask.
“There was an opening, and it has a certain Southern charm. I always wanted to live in the deep South. Painted porches, sweet tea, sitting out on a swing enjoying both.”
“Well, I think I can help fulfill that fantasy. Come on.”
Guy shadows me back into the living room where the girls are whispering to each other, stopping when they see us. That is beginning to bother me. I’m not a big fan of secrets, and I’m about to say something when the footsteps on the stairs cause us all to look that way. Adam wanders in, and my back involuntarily straightens. It feels strange having Adam and Guy inhabit the same space, as if the combination sends uncomfortable ripples through the atmosphere. I think they feel it too. After the initial surprise, they grow a little suspicious of one another, almost examining one another like animals ready to pounce. Most odd.
“Hello,” Adam says.
“Um, A.J., this is Dr. Guy Sutcliffe. Guy, this is A.J.”
“He’s our cousin from Boston in for the wedding,” Cora says.
Guy’s posture softens a little. “Oh, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand. After an uncomfortable second Adam takes it, squeezing so tight Guy winces and pulls away. “Nice grip.”
Adam doesn’t utter a word.
“Um, we’ll be out on the porch if anyone needs us,” I say lightly tugging on Guy’s shirt.
“Nice to see you girls again,” Guy says as we walk to the door. He half smiles at the scowling werewolf. “Have a … nice night.”
I shut the front door when Guy steps out. “You’ll have to forgive my cousin. He’s a tad grumpy today.”
“No, it’s fine,” Guy says as he sits on the swing. “Exactly how many cousins do you have in town?”
I sit as close to him as I dare, leaving about two feet between us. “I’ve actually lost count. We’re an old family.”
“And you’ve always lived here?”
“Born, lived, and will probably die right here.”
“That must be nice, having roots. It’s hard to get them up in D.C.”
“Blessing and curse, like most things in life,” I say, sipping my own tea. “I’ve known these people all my life, but on the flipside they’ve known me all their lives, and people in small towns have long memories. I’m still getting heat from Nurse Luann about biting her thirty years ago.”
“Yeah, she mentioned that,” he says with a chuckle.
“See? So watch out. Just saying.”
He sips his tea, glancing over at me with a sly smile. “And what will me sitting on this swing with you do for my reputation?”
I beam back. “You’ll be considered a very smart man with excellent taste in women.”
“Huh. Accurate so far.” He scoots closer to me so our legs touch. He’s touching me. My entire body tingles with anticipation. “And if I, I don’t know … ” he says, lifting up his arm and draping it around my shoulders. I almost die on the spot. “Do something like this, what do you think they’ll say?”
“Um … ” I seem to have forgotten the English language. “Good. Good things.”
He proudly smiles and takes a sip of the tea, the blue and purple bracelet on his wrist falling a little. I’ve seen that before. Where— “So did you get my flowers?”
“What? Oh, those were from you? I thought they were from one of my other gentlemen callers.”
“You have others?”
“Oh tons. I’m beating them back with a stick. Though you’re in the lead.”
“My good old-fashioned Southern courting skills are that good, huh?”
I shrug. “You lose points for not wearing seersucker and asking me to dance a reel.”
“I will have to remember that for next time,” he says with another smile.
We swing for a minute, and I enjoy every moment of it. The feel of his body beside mine. The weight of his arm on my shoulders. The way his thin lips pucker just after he sips the tea. He must feel me staring because he turns, his eyes meeting mine. His smile starts small, as does mine, but they grow in time with each other. The smile of anticipation. My cheeks grow hot again, but I don’t break the gaze. He is so handsome, like something out of a movie. He moves first, lips slightly parted for what’s to come, and I follow his lead. This is really happening. Please let me remember how to kiss. I close my eyes.
“Oh my God! They’re going to kiss!”
My eyes fly open, as do Guy’s. Both our gazes whip toward the window behind us. Cora, with her mouth now covered by a hand, is being dragged away by her sister toward the couch. And the mortification hits … now. Guy chuckles and shakes his head, but I want to go hide in a closet. The mood is dead. “Uh, I guess I better go,” he says as he stands.
“Yeah,” I say, standing too.
He hands me his empty glass. “Well, thank you for the tea and Southern etiquette lesson.”
“Always glad to help.”
“Um, so I’ll see you Wednesday night?”
“I’ll be there. Will you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He takes my hand and brushes his lips across the top. Cue melting. “Goodnight.” With another smile my way, he steps off the porch toward his car, giving a quick wave before climbing in. I wait until I spin around before letting a huge smile form on my face. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. Is it too soon to be looking for a wedding dress? Probably. I’ll start after our first date.
The girls are sitting side by side on the couch with expressions of dread on their cute faces when I come inside. I fall from my cloud and drop the smile to glare at them. “What have I told you about spying on people? It’s rude.”
“Sorry,” Sophie says.
“Are you going to marry Dr. Sutcliffe? Can I stay here in my pink room?” Cora asks.
“No one is getting married.” Yet. “Now, both of you get upstairs. You’ve lost TV privileges for the night.”
“Aww, but—” Sophie says.
“Zip it. Upstairs. Scoot.”
Moping, the girls turn off the TV and tread upstairs. It’s almost time for them to head off to bed anyway. With a sigh, I walk into the kitchen and stick our glasses in the dishwasher. So close, I was so close. Next time I won’t wait. Before he says a word, I’ll press my lips to his and give him what for. Next time.
The back door is open and I can hear quiet sawing. Through the window, I see Adam still at his post using a manual saw to cut another plank in relative quiet. He sneers at the wood, sweat dripping from his nose onto the wood. I fill another glass with water. He doesn’t stop sawing when I step outside. “Here. Thought you might be thirsty.”
He glances at the glass. “I’m not.”
“O-kay,” I say, pulling my hand back.
“Is your boyfriend gone?”
“He’s not … yeah, he’s gone. He just stopped by to make sure I got the flowers.”
“Oh,” he says over the gentle noise.
I stand here for a few seconds, water in hand, as he picks up the pace. The excess wood lands on the concrete, and Adam brushes his forehead, bits of wood sticking to it. I have the strongest urge to wipe the sweat and wood from his brow but hold back. That’s the sexual frustration urging me on. He does look pretty adorable d
isheveled like this. “Well, I’m gonna get a little work done, and get the girls to bed. Excuse me.”
Just as I step into the house, his voice stops me. “Mona?”
I turn around. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to say this, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. This has nothing to do with you as a person, okay?”
“What?”
“I don’t like that guy.”
“Yeah, we all kind of picked up on that,” I say.
“It’s not … ” He shakes his head. “There’s something off. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. Something is wrong about him. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
My back straightens. “Noted. Thank you for your concern. I’ll let you get back to work.” I step inside before he can say another wretched word.
He’s wrong. He wasn’t on that porch. Guy’s a doctor, not an actor. He couldn’t fake the lust and kindness I saw in his eyes. No, it was genuine. And lovely. Adam’s just paranoid.
I’m staking my heart on it.
Get the girls ready for bed
The girls go off to bed with little fuss, and I get the majority of my work done, though I seem to be missing a few oils and herbs I need. I was sure I had enough, but it wouldn’t surprise me if I just forgot to write down that I needed more. My brain can only handle so much.
After a shower, I check on the slumbering children and the big baby downstairs still hard at work in the backyard. He’s gonna wear himself out if … oh my. My breath catches when I see him shirtless and sweating, muscles rippling as he saws back and forth. Without a word, I spin on my heel and scurry out of the kitchen before I’m caught ogling my houseguest. My libido is worn out from the past few days, and I’m afraid one more shock will make it break down and do something … unladylike.
Work. Investigation. Focus on that. So I get my cell phone, go out on the front lawn to activate the perimeter, and dial Lord Thomas as I sit on the swing. He answers on the fifth ring. “Thomas Wellington.”
“Lord Thomas, this is Mona McGregor.”
“High Priestess McGregor. I was wondering when you would phone.”
“Well, I almost called last night but decided I should calm down before we had this conversation.”
“Always wise. I do apologize for literally throwing you to the wolves. I had no choice. Mr. Dahl was … more than a tad upset and concerned as to the fate of his friend. He would not believe me unless I produced the Beta. From the message you left, I assumed he was with you. He is well? My men tend to take their tasks very seriously.”
“He’s fine.”
“Do tell him I hope there are no hard feelings. I did not know he was a double agent.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“And you? How are you? Has our mystery witch made herself known yet?”
“No, but I’m looking into it, as I’m sure you are as well. I thought we could pool information, as she now has a reason to be pissed at you too. You know, cooperation? You are familiar with the meaning of that word, right?” He doesn’t dignify this jab with an answer. I sigh. “I’ve narrowed it down to four possible, two probable suspects: Cheyenne Bell and Erica Fitch. Has Erica called you yet?”
“Erica? No,” Thomas says.
“Well, have you found any clues that might lead us to his acc-
omplice?”
“There were women’s undergarments and spell paraphernalia in Alejandro’s house. However, he was quite popular with the fairer sex, so a multitude of women were seen leaving his home. Try as we did, he would not give up the name.”
“So you have nothing, either.”
“They were careful. Was the wolf’s information any better?”
“No. Alejandro never gave any indication as to who she was.”
“Then we will have to soldier on as we are. If I uncover anything pertinent, I shall phone.”
“Same here. And if Erica calls, let me know. I set up a little test for her.”
“I will. Have a good night.” He hangs up.
“Any news?” Adam asks behind me through the window.
People have no sense of privacy anymore. “No.” Damn it! Our dead ends have dead ends. I return to the house and am relieved to see Adam’s shirt is firmly on his torso. Very firmly. Kind of clinging. I lock the front door and hand him the keys. “Here. You can take my car for your date tonight. Just lock the door behind yourself. I’m going to bed.”
“I don’t think I’ll go,” he says.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to leave you unprotected.”
I sigh. “Look, you were right, and I was wrong. The date was a good idea. Anything you can get out of her will be helpful at this point, so go. Please.”
“You don’t … mind?”
“I’m not your keeper,” I say wearily. “And I have a shotgun, a pistol, and the elements to defend myself. Don’t worry about me. This has to be done. Go. Maybe even try to have fun. You deserve it.”
“Fine then. I will. Excuse me.” He brushes past me without another word.
Goddess, why are all werewolves so moody? We women got nothing on them.
I do one final sweep of the house before jumping into bed face first. It’s odd not having the Captain waiting for me on his pillow, but he refuses to come out of the chimney. Add that to my To Do list: cat love potion so he’ll tolerate Adam. It’s not illegal to use on animals, at least I don’t think so. That’s a theoretical debate for tomorrow.
I shut off my lamp and snuggle into bed. I fall asleep to the rhythm of the shower in the next room and visions of me walking down the aisle in Granny’s wedding dress.
I’m jolted awake a short while later by the knowledge that someone is breaking the perimeter: Adam on his way out. Hope his date is as frustrating as mine was.
TUESDAY TO DO:
Cat love potion
Continue investigation
Find a dress for auction
Work
Paint front window
Organize store for renovation
Lose thirty pounds by tomorrow night
12:52 A.M. OKAY, THE psychic alarm system is getting on my nerves. I wake again as someone walks through it. I listen as the door opens, closes, and keys are set on the end table downstairs. Adam. He walks up the creaky steps and finally the bedroom door shuts across from mine. I fall back asleep … until the phone rings. “For fuck’s sake.” I pick up the portable, turn it on and off, then on again to leave it off the hook. No way. Not tonight. Within seconds, I’m asleep again.
What the fuck?
I sit straight up in bed, every one of my nerve endings buzzing with warning. There are goose pimples all over and the hair on my arms stand on end. Danger. I’ve never felt this before, but instinctively I know the cause.
I am in such deep shit.
“Aunt Mona?” Sophie calls, voice filled with terror.
I leap out of bed and run to the door. Both girls stand in the hallway, Cora clutching onto her shaking sister. They’re as petrified as I am. “Are you okay?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my own fear.
The door across from me swings open, and we all almost pee our pants. Adam steps out, hair wild from sleep. “What’s the matter?”
“You don’t feel that?” I ask.
“What?”
“Demon,” Sophie says, voice quaking. “There’s a demon outside.”
“A demon?” Adam asks.
“You two, my office, now!” The girls spring next door with me close behind. Oh fuck, this is not good. This is as far from good as we can get. The girls huddle in the corner while I get to work. Off the top of my head I know they don’t like white musk and myrrh, so I light those incense sticks. I go through my shelves, knocking things down left and right.
Adam steps in. “Mona, what—”
“Shotgun in the closet, shells in my underwear drawer,” I say as I fumble with the top to the carnation oil. He runs out.
“What’s it going to d
o to us?” Cora cries, tears streaming down her face.
I bend down right at her level, meeting her eyes. “Nothing,” I say with utter certainty. “It is not going to do anything to you. Adam and I will make sure of it.”
“Promise?” she sobs.
“On my life.”
“They—they hate sage and sea salt,” Sophie says. “It hurts them. Hyssop too. It burns them like acid.”
How she knows that is a question for later. “Then burn some,” I say, anointing them with carnation oil. “Now, you two stay here. Run some black salt across the floor, okay? It shouldn’t be able to cross it.”
“Don’t leave!” Cora shrieks.
Her voice cuts me so deep it brings tears to my eyes. “I have to, sweetie. I have to get him away from the house. But if anything happens to me, you call 911 and wait for them in here, then go to Auntie Sara’s, okay?” I quickly kiss each of their cheeks and rise. I grab some sage, hyssop, a silver athame, and two protection amulets. I light the two herbs. “Lock this door and black salt it, okay?” Sophie nods her head. “Love you. It’ll all be fine.”
I shut the door and run into my bedroom just as Adam sticks a cartridge into the shotgun. “Will this work on a demon?”
I retrieve the gun safe from the closet. “Aim for the head. That’ll stop anything.” I press in the code and pull out the .38. “Come on.” He follows me down the hall and stairs. I hand him one of the amulets and the hyssop on the stairs. “Put that on,” I whisper. The house is dark, and I don’t want to give away our location, so we carefully pad into the living room.
“Could it be in the house?” Adam whispers.
“No, the perimeter hasn’t been breached. It must sense it,” I whisper back. “Still. Backyard first.”
He takes the lead through the living room to the kitchen, checking every corner with the muzzle of the shotgun pointed there. My heart is beating like a jackhammer and every muscle is wound up, but Adam just seems focused. He’s faced life-and-death situations before, he’ll know how to handle this one too. At this moment, I’m so relieved he’s here I could kiss him. He looks out the kitchen window into the backyard. “I don’t see or hear anyone.”
What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery Page 12
