by Amy Boyles
And if he wanted it back, where would that leave me? Stranded in Magnolia Cove without a business? What would I do? No one was hiring that I knew of, and to be honest, I loved my job—loved the animals.
But what if Donovan wanted the store for himself? I’d be left unemployed. And the next question was—if I didn’t have the familiar shop, would I stay?
My chest constricted. To me, my life here was tied to the animals. If I didn’t have them, I wasn’t sure I wanted to remain. After all, I’d feel like a loser—someone who was used for a short period of time without being appreciated.
No. I made up my mind right then. If Donovan took the store back, I would leave town and head back to Nashville. After all, I could fight Rufus and win. I’d already done that. I wasn’t the strongest witch on the block, but I was getting better with each passing day.
Yep. It was the right decision to make. If it came down to it, I’d be ready, willing and able to say goodbye to the town I loved.
I’d just have to.
NINE
Axel picked me up around seven thirty. He looked dashing in a pair of slim jeans and a white button-down. That man could make a burlap sack look sexy. His muscles filled the shirt, his thighs bulged and the line of his back was straight with shoulders that looked like they could hold a small mountain.
Okay, I’m exaggerating, but he was seriously hot and I was seriously hot for him.
Which is why I only gave him a big smile, a dainty kiss on the cheek and did my best to ignore the cloud of testosterone that enveloped me.
“You ready?” he said huskily.
My knees slackened as the scent of his cologne danced up my nose. It was thick and musky and made me want to lick his ear. For all y’all’s sakes, I didn’t because I know you don’t want to hear about that.
“Donovan’s going with us,” I said.
He smiled. “Good.” His gaze flickered to my uncle. Axel extended his hand. “Nice to see you.”
They shook hands, and Donovan squeezed Axel’s good shoulder. “It’s good to see you, buddy. Sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
Axel shrugged. “It’s okay. Pepper and I are going to interrogate the Sensational Singers, see what they know about Carl.”
Donovan pushed up his glasses. “I’d like to know myself how they met him.”
“Where are all y’all going? A rave party?” Betty waddled in and stoked the ever-burning fire in the hearth. “I heard that new club, Wicked Witch, doesn’t open for another day or two.”
“I didn’t know a club was opening,” I said.
Betty rolled her eyes. “It’s all Amelia’s been talking about. You should listen to your cousins every now and then.”
“Well, we’re going to the Sensational Singers benefit concert,” I said. “Want to come?”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “You gonna find out about the dad singer and Carl?”
I grabbed my purse and slung it over one shoulder. “You know it. We’re playing detective.”
“Well hallelujah, finally some excitement today,” Betty said. “I’ll just grab my pipe.” She shoved her pipe in the front pocket of her floral dress. “Y’all ready? Don’t just stand around with your mouths open catching flies. Let’s roll.”
We headed over to the Magnolia Theater. It was one of those theaters you find in small towns. It had a lit marquee out front and deeply pitched stadium seating inside. I hadn’t been in the place since Mysterio the Magician had arrived in town and brought forth ghosts from folks’ past.
Literally. My own mother had appeared in the theater with a message for me.
But that’s another story for another time.
We sat in the packed theater and listened for an hour while the seven entertainers sang beautiful songs, changed into clothes that made them look like they’d just exited an episode of Swamp People and even pulled out steel washboards and shakers and played music like they were living a century ago in the Smoky Mountains.
Now before anybody takes offense, I’m not saying that’s how people in the Smokies used to play music. All I’m saying is that’s how the Sensational Singers looked—like musicians from years past.
It was all part of the show, folks.
Anyway, when they finished up, Axel started to lead me around back, but Betty grabbed his hand.
“You gonna go back there and just start popping off questions to that man?”
The man in question was the father—a tall lumberjack of a fellow who could sing like one of the three world tenors even though he was a bass. He also boasted a piercing look in his eyes that made me think he’d been in a bar fight or two—and had won hand’s down.
Axel crossed his arms. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t think I should talk to him?”
“Because Baron von Trapp or whatever his name is knows he’s a suspect in a murder. He also knows he sold Donovan a bad vampire bat. If you go in and start shooting, that man’s going to twist a story.”
“And you know this how?” Axel said.
Betty tapped her temple. “Just a sense I have.”
Donovan scratched his head. “She’s right. He doesn’t come out and say things straight. He’s wily.”
Axel glanced from Donovan to Betty. “You’re saying we need stealth to find out the truth about a man who travels the world with his wife and children singing Christmas songs.”
“And Halloween ones,” Betty said.
Axel scraped his fingers down his face. “If you want to question him, be my guest.”
“Great,” Betty said, grabbing my arm.
“But don’t put Pepper in any weird positions,” he said.
Betty glanced over his shoulder. “I’m her grandmother. What do you think I’d do that for?”
“Because you’re you,” he said.
She swatted the air. “Trust me. We’ll come back with all the intel you need.”
We shuffled out the front door. “Where are we going?”
She snapped her fingers and pulled a pen and paper from the air, shoving them into my hands. “We’re going around back to have him sign your autograph book.”
I stared at her. “What? How’re we supposed to get time with him if the man’s signing a piece of paper and running off?”
Betty smiled. “Leave that to me.”
My stomach flip-flopped at her words.
We reached the back of the theater. The line to meet the Sensational Singers wasn’t long considering they’d received a standing ovation several times over.
The back door swung wide and out stepped the father and patriarch of the troupe.
“Thank y’all for coming,” he said. “We couldn’t do what we do without y’all.” He was a burly man with a booming voice.
He signed a few autographs before Betty pushed me forward. “Can I have your autograph?” I said meekly. I had no idea what the heck we were doing. I figured if I was following Betty’s lead all the way to hell, I’d just have to go with the flow of it.
“Will you sign my granddaughter’s autograph? She just loves y’all,” Betty said.
“Certainly,” he said.
“Did I read in the program that your name is Baron Sensational?” she said.
He smiled as he scribbled on the notepad. “That’s right. That’s how we came up with the name Sensational Singers.”
Betty wiggled her way in deeper. “You’re not related to the Sensationals in Chattanooga, are you?”
His surprised gaze settled on Betty. “Well, in fact we are.”
Betty smiled proudly. “I had thought so. You’re the spitting image of a man I knew, Bernard Sensational.”
“That was my father,” he said, his lips bowing to a frown. “He passed away a few years ago.”
“Mmm,” Betty said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“How’d you know him?”
Betty leaned forward. I could tell she was going in for the kill. “I once asked him to find me something very rare—a lightning bug enc
hanted by a pixie.”
Baron’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. He never told me about that.”
Betty covered quickly. “Well, he tried to find it but couldn’t. Ended up selling me something like it, but not what I wanted. Course, I didn’t find that out until later, after the spell I needed it for failed.”
Baron stared at her for a moment. “My family not only sings, but we also locate rare creatures. I’m sorry. We come as close as we can but don’t always get an exact match.”
“That’s what he said, but then he mentioned that the man who sold it to him turned out to be a swindler. Said that man had swindled a lot of other folks and ended up dead.”
Baron stopped. He studied Betty. A slow smile crept over his face. “You can’t screw over too many people in the magical world before it catches up to you.”
“That’s what he thought, too,” Betty said, punching a hand in her pocket. “Boy, I just hope the man who got killed the other night hadn’t done something like that.”
“You were there,” Baron said, his voice hitting a note of realization. “I saw you.”
“And I saw you say that Carl had cheated you.”
Baron chuckled. “All that story about my father so I’d get comfortable enough to tell you how Carl did it.”
“I thought you might want to connect with me a little bit.”
Baron laughed deeply. “I tell you what, that man peddled himself as a broker of magical creatures. I bought a bat from him. It was supposed to have been a vampire cursed into the bat form. I discovered it wasn’t and that caused a headache of problems that I don’t even want to discuss.” He studied Betty again. “But I guess you know all about that.”
She smiled. “I do indeed. Did you mention any of that to the police?”
He shook his head. “No. I said he owed me money, which is true…in a sense since he cost me my reputation.”
Betty smiled as if she’d won the lottery. “Thank you for your time.”
He handed the pad to me. “Would you still like the autograph?”
Betty snatched it from him before I had a chance to answer. “I collect them. Thank you.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Thank you, ladies. I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
After we were out of earshot, I turned to Betty. “So you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Knew that Carl had been the one who sold the vampire bat to him.”
“I had a sneaking suspicion,” she said, her eyes darting away.
I placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “All right. Fess up. How’d you know?”
Betty pulled me off to the side and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Because I run this town. How many times do I have to tell you?”
I folded my arms and scowled. “That’s not good enough. You had inside information, didn’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “All right. When I heard that Carl was related to the Transylvania vampires, I figured out of all the folks who could’ve gotten a vampire bat to the Boondocks singers, it would’ve been him, so I did some calling around and found out a guy matching Carl’s description had been trying to sell enchanted toads to a swamp witch who was too smart to fall for the swindler.”
I paused. “And all that’s illegal?”
“Who in the world is going to sell you a permit for a vampire cursed to live forever as a bat?”
“Good point,” I said, dipping my head. “So not only that, but Carl’s peddled himself off as a hit man?”
Betty nodded. “Carl’s what we call a con man. He’s a charlatan who makes his money conning people. That’s what he does.”
I nibbled my bottom lip. “So if he’s out there selling creatures without a permit, then Uncle Donovan bought an illegal vampire bat?”
Betty fisted her hands to her hips. “’Bout time you figured that out.”
I sighed and stared at the stars. “So if the cops find out about Donovan?”
Betty stuck her pipe in her mouth. “He’ll be thrown in jail for selling without a permit.”
“So Donovan’s a criminal?”
Betty nodded. “You got that right.”
TEN
I started to stare at my uncle as if he were some sort of hardened prisoner, but the balding white hair, oval spectacles and pudgy belly along with his habit of scratching the top of his head made all that pretty much impossible.
“Baron showed me his permit for the bat,” Donovan said when Betty cornered him.
“And you didn’t bother to ask if it was legal?” Betty said.
“Of course it’s illegal,” Donovan said. “The very act of cursing a vampire like that is illegal.”
“But you sold it anyway.”
Donovan slumped. “Look, all my life I’ve done things right—tried not to cut corners. This time I screwed up. I may’ve cut a few more corners than normal.”
“And if Sheriff Young discovers you sold a cursed vampire to a mobster?”
Donovan opened his mouth, shut it and then flailed his arms. “I did what I could to stay in the law. I asked for permits and they were given to me. It’s not my fault if the permit was fake. I did what I always did, which was to sell animals.”
“You knowingly broke the law for money,” Betty argued.
“Yeah, and I’ve paid the consequences—I had to fake my own death to stay alive and I’m still not doing too hot. Trust me, I’ll never do it again. But it was just…the thought of seeing such a creature was too great a chance to miss out on. I’m curious by nature.”
“Curiosity killed the mammoth,” Betty said.
Donovan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s right.”
“Well it should be,” she snapped.
I rubbed his arm. “Donovan, no one here thinks you’re out in the world committing crimes just because you can.”
Donovan shot Betty a questioning look. She flustered and floundered until she finally spat out, “Okay, no one really thinks that. But I believe you were careless, period.”
“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Axel said, “why don’t we talk about what’s really interesting—the fact that Carl Carlsburg was a con man with family connections to Transylvania.”
“Now that is interesting,” I said, clapping my hands with delight.
Everyone stared at me. My excitement deflated. “What? I think it’s weird that a con man who sold animals would also sell himself as a hit man to the one person who wanted Donovan dead. Not a coincidence, I think. But how did Carl know that Johnny Utah wanted Donovan dead?”
Axel smiled. “There’s our mystery right there. I’m betting if we can figure that out, then we’ll be an inch away from finding our killer.”
“Hopefully he won’t be an inch away from finding us first,” I said.
They all stared again.
“What? Someone has to say what Amelia would suggest since she’s not here.”
Axel coughed into his fist while Betty rolled her eyes and Donovan watched the sky.
“Something interesting up there?” Betty said.
“Yeah, there is. I promised Pepper we’d spend some time on her abilities tonight.”
I’d forgotten all about that, what with me pretending to be a Sensational Singers groupie as well as dealing with the information about Donovan’s criminal activities.
It was a lot on my plate, and that plate was tipped sideways. “Are we doing that now?” I said, glancing up into the dark, star-speckled sky.
He shrugged. “Now’s as good a time as any.”
“Okay,” I said.
Betty hooked her arm around Axel’s. “Why don’t you walk an old lady home? You can either wait for Pepper there or go back to your own place.”
Axel’s mouth coiled into a smile almost as sweet as the one he showered me with. “I’d love to see you home, Betty.”
“That’s what an old lady likes to hear,” she said.
They strolled off into the night, leaving Donovan and me alone.
“Let’s go to the park,” he said. “Lots of light there. It’ll be easier to see the creatures we’re working with.”
He walked at a brisk pace, and I hurried to catch up. “Okay,” I said slowly, “but what are we working with? Salamanders and cicadas?”
He gave me a confused look. “It’s a little late in the season for cicadas.”
“Well, I’m not much of a nature girl. I’m more big city, nightlife and all that.”
“And you like it here?” he said, sounding surprised.
I grinned. “Yeah, I do. I didn’t expect to, especially with the whole animal thing, but I enjoy it more than I ever thought possible.”
“Good, good,” he replied, sounding distracted. He gazed into the park. “On second thought, let’s go stand under those trees. We can still see the park, but I don’t want us so exposed.”
“I’m game,” I said.
We stood in the shadow of a clump of pines. Needles crunched beneath our feet as we took up position. “So what are we out here doing, exactly?”
“Learning how to see what you can’t. It’s best to do this at night. It’s an important skill, especially for our kind—those of us who match witches to their familiars.”
“Head witches, you mean?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “but not all witches who match are head witches. Some are feline witches or creature witches.”
“Creature witches?”
“Yeah,” he said, head bobbing. “They tend to have power over animals. You have to watch them, though. I’ve seen witches with that talent abuse their power—use animals for their purposes instead of simply guiding the creatures.”
Hair rose on the back of my neck. “Like they use animals to attack people?”
“Or to work dark magic, that sort of thing. Animals can naturally see and sense more than we can, so those witches have an easier time connecting to the darkness that exists beneath the surface of the light.”
I whistled appreciatively. “That’s a mouthful.”
