Witches Just Want to Have Fun

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Getting drunk isn’t going to help matters.”

  “I don’t think he cares.”

  “I know, but … he’s making things worse.”

  “For him, I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  Booker heaved out a sigh. “You’re feeling sorry for him, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t you?” I didn’t understand how anyone could look at a pathetic creature like Gus Doyle and not feel sympathy. “He lost his daughter. He’s a wreck.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not sad.”

  “Are you sad?” Curiosity got the better of me … again … and I blurted out the question. “I mean … are you sad because you were dating her and now she’s dead? That would be normal. I know I’d feel sad if I were in your position.”

  “Ugh.” Booker made a face as we hit the sidewalk in front of the cemetery. “I’m starting to regret offering to walk you back to town.”

  “You don’t have to do it.” Now that we were far away from the bushes of doom I felt brave and strong again. “If you have someplace else to be, I understand.”

  “Unfortunately for me, I have nowhere else to be. I finished work early. There’s nothing more I can do this afternoon.”

  “So you have plenty of time to answer my question.” I showed him my teeth as I adopted my best “you have to tell me what I want to hear because I’m adorable and sweet” smile. “There’s no sense avoiding it.”

  “I’m not avoiding it.” Booker was blasé. “I know you want me to feel guilty about dating two women at once, but I really don’t feel that way.”

  I didn’t doubt that. “Did you like either of them?”

  “I liked both of them … for about an hour at a time. After that, they both got tedious.”

  I wrinkled my nose, appalled. “So you’re saying that you liked having sex with them and that’s it.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. “Did they want more from you?”

  “Of course. That’s a woman thing, though, and not an Ashley and Trish thing. In truth, they didn’t want me because they really wanted me. They simply wanted me because everyone on the island wants me.”

  “Wow … and I thought Galen’s ego was huge.”

  “It is. His ego is twice as big as mine.”

  “I’m sure he would say the same thing about you.”

  “But I’m right.” Booker’s grin was mischievous. “As for everyone on the island wanting me, it’s true. Ask around. I’m like catnip and the women are the felines.”

  “I think I might throw up.”

  “You might not like it, but it’s totally true.” Booker refused to back down. “Women have always found me irresistible.”

  “And what about you? Have you ever found a woman irresistible?”

  “Not really.”

  “I figured.”

  “I’m just not ready for a relationship.” To my surprise, Booker turned serious. “A relationship takes work and I don’t have the energy to work at one right now. I have other things going on. I know you don’t want to hear it, but Trish and Ashley both understood that I was not in it for the long haul.”

  “You just said they wanted more.”

  “Yes, but they understood they weren’t going to get more.” Booker was firm. “I’m not going to make apologies for how I choose to live my life. I never lied to either of them. I never said I loved them. I never said I even wanted to entertain the idea of loving them. I was simply a guy who occasionally had needs and they were women who enjoyed meeting those needs. That’s it.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” I grumbled, dragging a hand through my hair. “Why don’t you want a relationship?”

  Booker held his hands out and shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a lot of other stuff going on right now. Not all of us are built to be the perfect boyfriend like Galen Blackwood.”

  His irritated tone caught me off guard. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, no. You meant something.”

  “I didn’t.” Booker inclined his chin toward Main Street as we approached. “It’s filling up early today. You should make an escape while you can.”

  “What is it with you guys hating festivals? I mean … I’m not always in the mood for a festival either, but it’s hardly the end of the world.”

  “You might change your mind down the road. You’re a newbie. The first festival is never bad. It’s the hundredth festival that turns into a drag.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a ray of freaking sunshine?”

  Booker smirked. “It’s been said a time or two. As for the festival, I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm. If you want to go to the festival I will walk you there to make sure you arrive safely.”

  That seemed like an odd way to phrase it but I decided to let it go. “Come on. They have these neat slush things that are amazing. They’re blue and they make your tongue a weird teal color.”

  “I’m well aware of the Blue Slush Effect.”

  I was incredulous. “It has a name?”

  Booker chuckled. “It does. As teens on this island, we had nothing better to do than go to the various festivals. It was expected. We’ve all enjoyed the Blue Slush Effect at one time or another.”

  “Good to know.” I cast him a sidelong look as we walked. “What do you think about the whole Conner and Doyle family feud thing? Do you think that’s why Trish is dead?”

  “Wow. You just can’t walk in silence, can you?”

  “It was a simple question. If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to answer.”

  “No, I’ll answer.” Booker’s eyes flashed. “I would much rather answer that question than risk you going off on another tangent about why I don’t have a girlfriend. As for the feud, like all feuds, it’s ridiculous. I think it started out as something simple and turned into something dangerous.”

  “Does that mean you think Ashley killed Trish?”

  Booker tilted his head to the side, slowing his pace as he considered the question. “I don’t know. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought over the past two days, and I’m not sure I can see Ashley killing Trish no matter the situation.”

  “What if Ashley decided she wanted to make her father happy?” I pressed. “I mean, according to all the rumors going around, Henry thought Gus had an affair with his wife. Maybe Ashley got in a fight with Trish over you – she might not have believed you didn’t want a girlfriend and wanted to stake her claim – and then she exacerbated the problem by listening to all her father’s nonsense. Maybe she let anger lead her and did something she regrets.”

  “I guess that’s possible.” Booker stopped walking. “The thing is, I don’t think Ashley has it in her to kill someone.”

  “Because she’s a good person?”

  “Because she’s lazy.” Booker grinned as I frowned. “I’m not casting aspersions, for the record. She’s the first to admit she’s lazy. I can’t see her getting her hands dirty in that fashion. Also, well, she and Trish were friends. They had one fight. I don’t think one fight is enough to cause a murder.”

  “Maybe she felt betrayed.”

  “Maybe she did,” Booker conceded, “but I don’t see it. That’s not how she is. I’ve never seen anything that would indicate she was capable of snapping and killing her best friend.”

  I had no idea why I was pushing him when I tended to agree with him. “So who do you think did it if Ashley is innocent? Galen has her in custody. He says the prosecutor is going to decide on charges.”

  “If I knew who did it, you’d be the first I’d tell … mostly because I figure it’s the only way to shut you up and get you off my case,” Booker replied, his eyes moving to the police station across the way. “As for the prosecutor, I think he’s made up his mind about charges.”

  I followed his gaze, frowning when I caught sight of Galen and another man on the front walkway of the police station. They were acros
s the road and I couldn’t hear what they said, but I recognized the belligerent slant of Galen’s shoulders as he openly argued with the other man.

  “That’s the prosecutor?”

  Booker nodded. “Jack Winthrop. He’s a real tool.”

  “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “He tries to throw his weight around and act like a big man on a small island,” Booker supplied. “He should let Galen do the investigating and wait until he’s done to get involved. He always fouls things up.”

  That was an interesting opinion. “Well … why doesn’t he do that?”

  “You’ll have to ask Jack.”

  The man wearing an overly expensive suit in 100-degree weather looked like the last person I wanted to have a conversation with. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “That’s probably a good plan.”

  Booker and I watched as Galen gestured wildly, yelling something we couldn’t quite make out. The prosecutor returned the gesture – adding a rude one of his own – and then turned on his heel and stormed off. Galen’s face was so red I worried he was about to blow a gasket.

  I was considering crossing the street so I could offer him something – perhaps comfort or maybe a shot at enjoying the Blue Slush Effect – but his eyes slowly turned in our direction and the expression on his face didn’t reflect delight. If anything, he looked absolutely furious.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Yeah, your prince charming is about to go rogue,” Booker groused when Galen hit the street. “Batten down the hatches because this ride is about to get bumpy.”

  I had no idea what he meant, but I wasn’t looking forward to the fallout.

  13

  Thirteen

  I thought Galen was going to take his fury out on me – he was obviously carrying a mountain of it on his broad shoulders – but his focus was on Booker as he grew closer.

  Galen didn’t stop until he was standing in front of him, his chest heaving, hands clenched into fists at his side. The look he shot Booker was pure venom, but his voice was full of faux welcome. “Hey, man. Good to see you. What’s up?”

  Booker, always calm, wasn’t the type to play games under most circumstances. For some reason he did the opposite. “Well, it’s a lovely afternoon in Moonstone Bay,” he drawled. “The sun is starting its inevitable descent into the horizon, the festival is about to crank up and I found your girlfriend hanging out by the cemetery, so I decided to walk her back to make sure she was safe. I think that just about covers everything.”

  Galen didn’t mask his surprise as he deflated a bit and flicked his eyes to me. “Why were you by the cemetery? You can’t see her during the day. If you need to see her again … well, I’ll take you to her. We’ll clear time and get it done.”

  “I wasn’t there to see her.” I felt stupid explaining myself a second time. “I was simply there to … think.”

  Galen merely blinked. “About what?”

  “Life and stuff.”

  “Life and stuff?” Galen was incredulous. “That’s a really pathetic answer. Think of a new answer and I’ll come back to you in a second.” He fixed his eyes on Booker and I could practically feel the electric sizzle of a brewing fight. “We need to talk.”

  “Oh, as lovely as that sounds, I’ve got other plans,” Booker replied, folding his arms over his chest. “If you would like to call my secretary to make an appointment she might be able to fit you in next week. As for tonight, I’m booked up. Sorry.”

  Galen didn’t crack a smile. “I’m not in the mood for whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “And I’m not in the mood for any of this,” Booker shot back. “I was trying to do a good thing and walk Hadley back to town. I didn’t think you’d want her wandering around the cemetery on her own. I’m not in the mood to be smacked around because I did the right thing. You know that saying? No good deed goes unpunished, right? I’m starting to believe it’s true.”

  Galen was unmoved by Booker’s speech. “I guess it’s good I’m not going to smack you around for that … even though you could’ve called me and I would’ve collected her.”

  I wasn’t a fan of the way he phrased that. “Collect me?”

  “Shh.” Galen pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at me. “I will get to you in a second.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Lovely.”

  Galen planted his hands on his hips as he stared. “If it makes you feel better, I’m thankful that you made sure Hadley was safe. I will be forever in your debt for transporting her back to town and keeping her safe from the roving bunch of invisible hoodlums who often attack people as they walk between the cemetery and town, even though no one has ever reported such a crime. If that’s not thanks enough, I would love to have a trophy created with your name on it so you can carry it around and get the accolades you so desperately need.”

  Booker snorted. “You’re in a mood, man. I’m kind of used to you being in a snit because that’s how you roll, but I’m too tired to put up with your crap right now. If you want to talk to me about something else – which we both know is crap for obvious reasons – you can make an appointment with my secretary.”

  “You don’t have a secretary.”

  Booker smirked. “You’re right. How did I overlook that?” He shifted his eyes to me. “You’re looking for a job, right? That’s what I heard in town earlier today. How would you like to be my secretary?”

  “That’s not even a little bit funny,” Galen groused.

  “I think it’s hilarious.”

  After a moment of silence, I realized they were both focused on me. That was unnerving. “I’m going to say thanks but no thanks to the job offer.” I sounded unnaturally chipper, but that couldn’t be helped because my discomfort was threatening to take over. “I haven’t actually decided if I’m going to get a job yet. Lilac thinks I should become a woman of leisure.”

  “Oh, if only.” Galen briefly adopted a far-off expression before straightening. “As for you, Booker, I need information on your two girlfriends.”

  Booker remained blasé. “You’ll have to be more specific. I have more than two girlfriends.”

  Galen scowled. “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”

  “I’ve often wondered the same thing about you.”

  “I need the lowdown on Trish and Ashley.” Galen was firm. “You were dating both of them, right?”

  “I was … hanging out … with both of them. Sporadically,” Booker clarified. “I wasn’t dating either of them. Dating involves dinner, dancing and holding hands on the beach. I believe you two are dating.” His eyes briefly landed on me before continuing. “I was merely spending an hour here or there with Trish and Ashley. It wasn’t a relationship.”

  “Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Galen taunted. “What girl wouldn’t jump at the chance to spend an hour with you every few weeks?”

  Booker shrugged. “I have no idea. I think it’s the perfect arrangement.”

  “What do you think, Hadley?” Galen focused on me. “Do you think that’s a great deal for the female population of Moonstone Bay?”

  I felt as if I were caught on two separate lines, with two fishermen from different boats fighting to see who was going to land me … and then take me home before gutting and grilling me. “I don’t think I want to be part of this conversation.”

  “I think it’s too late for that.” Galen’s temper was on full display. “You were hanging out with him. He’s your Booker. You must like what he has to offer, right?”

  Now I was officially offended. “I ran into him by the cemetery.” I took a step back because I was sick of the argument. I was also beyond tired of the attitude … from both of them. Booker might have thought he was fooling me, but he wasn’t. He knew exactly what buttons to push on Galen and he was masterful when it came time to push them. He was trying to drive Galen nutty, and doing a darned good job of it. “That’s it. Nothing is going on.”

  Galen met my gaze, his expression shifting
. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” I was suddenly too tired to deal with either of them. All I wanted was a bottle of water and a nap. “I don’t want to be here.”

  Galen obviously wasn’t thrilled with the statement. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

  “And I thought you were a pleasant guy who didn’t turn into a walking wall of testosterone at the drop of a hat,” I shot back. “I know what you’re doing here.” I gestured between him and Booker. “I’m not some weapon that can be used when you want to win an argument with another guy. I’m not your property either. I don’t deserve to be guilted for walking into town with Booker. We weren’t doing anything.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” Galen protested. “When did I say you were doing something?” He looked to Booker for help. “This is your fault.”

  “I’ve been nothing but pleasant and helpful,” Booker countered. “I think she’s merely seeing you for what you really are.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A tool.”

  I was at my limit. “Knock that off.” I extended a finger in Booker’s direction, causing his eyebrows to migrate north. “You’re no better. You’re trying to get Galen riled up because … well, because I think you like it. It’s not funny. He’s under a lot of pressure.”

  “So, wait … are you angry with him or me?” Galen wrinkled his forehead. “I vote for you being angry at him if I have a choice in the matter, by the way.”

  I shot him a withering look. “I’m angry with both of you. That’s why I’m going home.”

  “What about our date?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe we should take a night off.” Even as I said the words, part of me regretted them. “I’m too tired to put up with this chest-thumping display.”

  “Hadley.” Galen appeared contrite. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry for how I acted. I … I’m tired, too.”

  I didn’t doubt that. “So maybe you should get some rest.” I kept my pinched smile in place as I took another step back. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow – maybe – and we’ll compare notes or something.”