Southern Spells (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 2)

by Amy Boyles

  The mouse said his goodnights and then he dove into the hedges.

  I turned to Mattie. “Okay. Let’s blow this joint.”

  We walked down the drive and onto the main road. We’d gone about three feet when a set of headlights snapped on behind us.

  My heart fluttered into my mouth. Whoever had driven up Melbalean’s road hadn’t left. They’d been waiting.

  What if it was Rufus?

  I pivoted to face the car right as a figure stepped into the darkness. “Nobody move. Hold it right there.”

  TWELVE

  “What do you think you’re doing up at Melbalean’s?”

  I squinted into the darkness. “Axel?”

  “That’s me.”

  I rested a palm over my pounding heart. I inhaled a deep shot of air and sank to my knees. “Oh my Lord. I thought you were Rufus or someone worse. I thought we were dead and I’m so young. There’s so much I haven’t experienced yet. I mean I just learned to like the animals at the pet store. There’s a lot I want to do with my life.”

  “You’re being dramatic.”

  “Only about the animal part.”

  Mattie hissed at me.

  “I like animals. I love you,” I said.

  “That’s good, sugar.”

  I threaded my fingers through my hair and tugged it over one shoulder. “Just what do you think you’re doing? Stalking me?”

  Axel scoffed. “No. I came out here to look for clues.”

  I kicked a pebble toward him. “I thought you said we needed to leave Melbalean’s house alone. And would you kick off the high beams so I can see you?”

  Axel flipped on the daytime running lights. He sighed as he folded his arms. “I’m pretty sure I said you needed to stay away.”

  I strode forward until I could reach out and touch the hood. “I thought it went without saying. If I was supposed to stay away, so were you.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m not the one who’s an inexperienced witch.”

  “You could’ve invited me.”

  “Seems you invited yourself.”

  “Sure did. Wouldn’t you like to know what I found?”

  He eyed me and I could feel the tension building between us again. He shut his door softly and came around until he stood by one of the tires. “Was it big and scary?”

  I laughed. “Big and scary I can deal with.”

  What a total lie.

  “This,” I said, “was something else.” I pulled the bottle from the pack and handed it to him.

  Axel’s eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. He released a low whistle. “Holy cow. So the rumors were true.”

  “So it appears.” I paused. “But why are you here?”

  He handed the bottle to me. “I was looking for you.”

  I quirked a brow. “Really? Why?”

  Coming to tell me your deep, dark secrets? Or just to confess your undying love?

  Yes, I know I needed to get a grip. We were just—whatever it was we were. Heck, I didn’t even know.

  “I came because I heard from the mayor,” he said. “Want to get in? I’ll give you a ride.”

  “Sure.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Mattie, you coming too?”

  The cat padded off toward the darkness. “Nah. I’m gonna go catch me a ground squirrel to eat. I love eating ‘em. They’re good grub.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. Axel rounded the hood. His shoulder brushed mine as he passed. He opened my door and I slid in.

  When we were both strapped and ready to go, he fired up the engine. The Mustang purred like a kitten as he threaded his way down the winding mountain toward Magnolia Cove.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to the chicken company?” I said.

  Axel’s gaze slid toward me. “I called, but had to leave a message. They’re not open on Sundays. I’ll call them again tomorrow.”

  I worried the inside of my lip. “Do you think they’ll be able to help?”

  He shifted gears as we hit a steep curve. “Hopefully.”

  “Betty had Garrick take her chicken. She told them that it held the key to who killed Melbalean.”

  “Good lie,” Axel said.

  “It did get her released. She’s nothing if not savvy.”

  He didn’t say anything. The cabin smelled like him—musky with a hint of pine. His hair was pulled back though a couple of super sexy strands fell over his right eye. The dimple in his cheek popped in as he hit the clutch.

  “You heard from the mayor?”

  Axel inhaled. He adjusted his seat belt as if what I said made him uncomfortable. “Yes. Melbalean’s funeral is tomorrow. The council decided to let Rufus attend.”

  I gulped. I wiped slick palms on my thighs. I didn’t know why I was surprised. Axel had told me it was possible. Hearing that Rufus would be in town was nothing new.

  “Will he be able to roam free? Do whatever he wants?” I said.

  Axel slanted his head toward me. “No. From what I understand he’ll have some supervision, though I’m not sure what. I’ve already told Garrick about your situation with Rufus and he’s on alert. And I’ll be around tomorrow during the day.”

  “What about tomorrow night?”

  Axel glanced at the road. “I’ve got some work to do.”

  “But Rufus should be gone by then, right? They’re only letting him in for the funeral, aren’t they?”

  Axel shook his head. “He’s got twenty-four hours in town.”

  My head dropped to the seat rest. “Seriously? Twenty-four hours? He could get into all kinds of trouble during that time.”

  Axel nodded. “Like I said, I’ll be around. And you’ll have your family to protect you.”

  “That’s true. Betty will have her shotgun. There’s no way Rufus would be stupid enough to try anything with her nearby.”

  “So…you want to grab some dinner?”

  He said it right as my stomach rumbled. I flashed him a bright smile. “You got that right.”

  The looks we garnered when we entered Spellin’ Skillet were completely different than anything I’d experienced with Axel before. While half the women drooled over Mr. Sexy, as they liked to refer to him, the men sneered.

  Axel kept his head tipped down as the waitress led us to a room in the back, where they apparently kept a table open for him at all times.

  I ordered a salad with mandarin oranges, goat cheese and sugared pecans, while Axel ordered a steak.

  “So what do you think about the witch’s looks we found?” I said.

  Axel glanced up, his eyes full of interest. “Wonder who’s it is.”

  “No clue.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Do you think that’s why Melbalean was killed?”

  He shrugged. “No idea. For all I know, someone put a spell on the hen to kill her and then blame Betty.”

  I scoffed. “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  “It’s about as crazy as sticking someone’s face in an egg.”

  “That’s true. The mouse, the one who found the egg, said there used to be more. Could still be. Might just have to look in the right places.”

  Axel glared at me. “Stay away. Rufus is about to be in town. He’ll be going there. You’re asking for trouble.”

  “I know, I’m trying to figure this out. I don’t want the police to come back and point a finger at Betty. Maybe there’s something they missed at the booth. Maybe there’s a clue that was left there.”

  He sliced into his steak. “Like what? A feather?”

  I smirked. “Very funny.” I took a long sip of sweet tea. “I don’t know. Something. Maybe we could stop by on our way to my house?”

  “No.”

  “Please?” I said cheerfully.

  “No.”

  “Pretty please, with sugar on top?”

  He shook his head.

  And then I reached under and squeezed his knee. Axel jerked back, nearly leaping from the table.

  “That wasn’t the reactio
n I was going for,” I said.

  Not that I was trying to seduce him, only convince him that I was on his side.

  Axel cleared his throat, took another bite of his steak and shot me dark, searching look as he said, “Okay.”

  I nearly jumped for joy.

  “But it doesn’t mean anything,” he said.

  “Of course not.”

  I couldn’t help but hum to myself as we cruised toward downtown. “I’m sorry I touched you,” I said.

  His mouth quirked. “Don’t be sorry. I’m an idiot for reacting the way I did.”

  We slid into a spot with a clear view of the festival. The lights were off. “I guess the festival cleared out early tonight.”

  Axel nodded. “I think Melbalean’s death put a damper on most of the festivities. Soon as things settle, it’ll pick back up. You’ll see.”

  “Great.” I slid my fingers over the handle and started to shove open the door.

  “Wait.”

  “Yes?” I said, turning back.

  Axel’s face was only a breath from mine. He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “Pepper,” he said, his voice low, “there are so many things I want to tell you.”

  I nodded. “I’m pretty easy to talk to.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not what I mean. For so long, I’ve pushed people away.”

  “You were friends with my uncle.”

  He glanced down. Rows of thick eyelashes brushed his cheeks. “That’s not what I meant. I mean with women.”

  I giggled uncomfortably. Deciding I sounded horrible, like a wheezing ox, I cleared my throat. “I knew that. I knew what you meant. Obviously with women. Not men.”

  “You’re the first women I’ve met in some time that I want to get close to. That I want to spend time with.”

  “You never call,” I said.

  He gritted his teeth. “I want to get to know you. I want you to know me, but I don’t want you to be scared.”

  I narrowed my eyes until I felt my brows pinch. “Scared? What about you could scare me?”

  Something fluttered in the corner of my eye. I glanced up and saw a shadow slice through the night.

  “Who’s that?” I said, leaning sideways to get a better view.

  “A person,” Axel said.

  I quirked my brow in annoyance. “I know it’s a person. I’m wondering who it is.”

  He flashed me a devilish smile. “Let’s take a look.” I eased open the door and followed Axel onto the sidewalk. “Where’d it go?” I whispered.

  Axel narrowed his eyes as if he wanted me to be quiet. I shrugged, as if to silently tell him I was sorry.

  A second later, the shadow blurred in front of me. “Ah!” I jumped.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare y’all,” came the voice.

  Out of the darkness stepped a man. I squinted at the figure. “Lane?”

  Light from a streetlamp splashed onto his shoulders. “That’s me.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  He rubbed his neck and that’s when I noticed he was wearing a hat and the hat didn’t cover the bald patch at the base of his head.

  Oh, dear Lord, Betty had balded him.

  I know that’s not a word but it sure seemed to fit.

  “I’m looking for a small violet. I needed it for some, um, cosmetic things. I thought I saw one out here earlier, but now I don’t anymore. Anyways,” he rubbed the spot again, “y’all don’t have to tell Amelia that you saw me out here. I mean, I’m going to see her tomorrow, I’m sure, as long as I can get things straightened out. We were both feeling poorly tonight and didn’t end up going out.”

  Poor guy. He didn’t want my cousin to know he was bald. I nearly laughed. She didn’t want him to know she was bald, either.

  Boy, these two were perfect for each other.

  I glanced over at Axel. “Want to help him find some violets?”

  He shot me a smile. “Why not?”

  So we spent the next ten minutes helping Lane. It was a small purple and yellow flower that he wanted. Most of them had wilted during the summer, but he swore there was a small patch that he’d seen.

  “That was crazy about Melbalean,” Lane said.

  I stopped. “You knew her?” I shot Axel a look.

  Lane scoured the grass, looking. “Oh, yeah. She and my grandmother were friends, but they had a falling out. From what I understand, on my Grandma’s deathbed she blamed Melbalean for her predicament.”

  “You mean her death,” Axel said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Did you know your grandmother well?” I said.

  “I never knew her. She passed long before I was born.”

  I felt like I needed to question him delicately. “Do you think Melbalean caused her death?”

  Lane looked uncertain. “No telling. According to Grandma, Melbalean cursed our family.”

  “How so?” I said.

  Lane said, “She gave us webbed feet.”

  I paused. “Really?”

  Lane laughed. “Yeah.”

  “Are they still webbed?” Axel said. “Now that’s Melbalean’s dead?”

  Lane nodded. “Oh yeah.”

  We finished up, eventually finding the violets in a small patch of dirt near where Melbalean had been killed.

  “Now, why didn’t I think to look for them here?” Lane said.

  “Beats me,” I said.

  Finding what he needed, I hopped in the car with Axel, who stared at Lane as he walked down the sidewalk, heading toward the inn, where he was staying.

  “Something about that guy,” Axel said, cranking the engine.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Why? He was just looking for the flowers.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Axel nodded toward Lane’s pocket. “He already had a bunch of the flowers. They were hanging out of his pocket.”

  “So you’re saying he lied.”

  Axel’s gaze sharpened. “Yep. And I plan on finding out why.”

  THIRTEEN

  We reached the house a minute later. I glanced at my watch and smiled. “Ha. Not quite ten o’clock. We’re early.”

  Axel glanced at his watch and cringed. “I’m on military time and according to it we’re thirty seconds late.”

  “Ah!”

  I bolted from the Mustang with Axel behind me. I leaped up the porch stairs and crashed through the front door.

  Betty sat in her rocker, the shotgun slung over her knees. The corncob pipe was smoking up a fog in the house. “You’re late.”

  “I thought you weren’t feeling well,” I said, dumping my purse on the couch.

  “I’m always up when it comes to making sure you youngsters are in the house.”

  What? Am I five? I haven’t been called a youngster since, well, I don’t know—the beginning of time?

  Axel strode in. “Sorry, we’re late. We ran into Lane.”

  Betty’s eyes sparked. “Oh? Did he have any hair?”

  “No,” I said, “and I think he’s searching for flowers to grow it back.”

  Betty scratched her chin. “That could work. Anyway, glad you’re safe. Now get upstairs, you’re heading out early tomorrow.”

  I rolled my eyes. I said goodnight to Axel, feeling tension flare between us. I wanted to reach out and touch his arm, or at least peck his cheek, but with Betty glaring at us, neither of those two things happened. Anyway, I slinked upstairs as Betty the matron said, and set my alarm so I could find Mayor Potion in the morning.

  By the time my head hit the pillow, I was nearly out. My thoughts drifted to the conversation with Axel, and how he didn’t want me to be afraid of him.

  What was there to be afraid of?

  It was my last thought as sleep finally overtook me.

  It was surprisingly easy to wake up early the next morning. Mattie the cat had somehow sneaked back into
the house and was laying on the window seat curled into a ball. I tugged on some clothes and headed out to find the mayor.

  He was laying in the arms of Amaryllis Snitch, the witch statue. I covered the mayor with the blanket. He moaned and grumbled to life. At the foot of the statue, I noticed a small cameo pin. I picked it up and squinted until my eyes adjusted to the image. When the picture sharpened, I sucked in air and nearly dropped the pin to the ground.

  It was the same face as the one Melbalean’s egg contained. At least, it looked like it. The egg face was a bit distorted, but they nearly matched.

  Mmm. I wondered what that was all about. I tucked the cameo in my pocket and helped the mayor to life. I guided him to his house, where he made me a cup of coffee.

  “The more I find out about Melbalean, the more I think she duped this entire town,” I said.

  “What makes you say that?” he said.

  I drummed my fingers on the lacquered bar-style counter that separated his kitchen from the living room. I was finger-pinching close to tell him about the beauty we’d found in the eggshell, but I decided to skip it.

  “There’s a man I met—Lane Longmire, who says Melbalean cursed his family to all have webbed feet.”

  Mayor Potion hooted with laughter. “Webbed feet?”

  I twisted the ends of my hair in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong? Do they not have webbed feet?”

  He shook his head, cleared his throat and spat in the sink. “Now they may have webbed feet but if Melbalean cursed the Longmires it doesn’t have nothin’ to do with a little skin between the toes.”

  I quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “Those Longmires may have ‘long’ in their name, but there’s nothing long about their lives.”

  I cracked the knuckles on my right hand. “Sorry?”

  Potion shook his head. “They don’t live past the age of thirty. If Melbalean cursed them it was to live a short life.”

  I leaned forward and stared straight into Peter’s bloodshot eyes. “Are you joking?”

  “No ma’am, I am not joking. I may be a drunk and a mayor, but I do not joke. Not about this sort of thing. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you. Longmires from around here, or who have relatives from here, don’t live past thirty. I don’t know who this fellow is you’re talking about, but I’d take a risk and say he’s one of them.”