“I understand you occupy that sweet cottage at the back of the property,” Craig said.
“Yes, Rose Cottage belonged to my parents,” I said.
“How fascinating that your aunt secured the main house while your father was relegated to the cottage,” Craig mused. “I suppose there’s a story there.”
“Yes, the story is that my aunt always gets her way,” I said. It bothered me that Craig seemed acutely aware of the grandeur. I suddenly flashed back to the coven meeting where we first met—how enthralled he was by our impressive headquarters and the fact that the Roses were descendants of the One True Witch. It occurred to me that he might actually be more interested in prestige than in my aunt.
On cue, Aunt Hyacinth swept onto the veranda, looking resplendent in a white kaftan trimmed in gold. Her white-blond hair was pulled in a tight chignon and two of the fingers on her right hand sported gold bands. Although my aunt was always dressed for an impromptu audience with the queen, she’d clearly taken extra care with her appearance today. Interesting.
“I do apologize for keeping you waiting,” my aunt said. She greeted Linden with a kiss on each cheek and shook Craig’s hand with a limp wrist. “Florian should be joining us any moment. We were delayed by a meeting.”
My radar pinged. “What kind of meeting? Not the foundation?”
“No, darling,” my aunt said. “I was assisting him with a tourism matter. Sometimes a voice of authority is needed.” She shifted her attention back to her guests. “Has Simon taken care of you?”
“He tried, but we told him we’d wait for you,” Linden said.
“You’re too kind,” Aunt Hyacinth said. She pulled one of her omnipresent bells from the deep recesses of her kaftan. Before she managed to ring it, Simon appeared with a tray of drinks.
“Oh, how clever he is,” Linden said.
“They have a psychic bond,” I said. They really didn’t, but it sure seemed that way most of the time.
“I took the liberty of preparing gentian spritzes,” Aunt Hyacinth said.
“One of my absolute favorites,” Linden exclaimed.
“Our grandmother used to make these at holidays,” Craig added.
“Yes, you mentioned that last week,” my aunt said.
Wait, what? Craig made a personal comment and my aunt tucked that nugget away for later use? To be thoughtful? What sorcery was this?
They each plucked a glass from the tray. Marley gave me a hopeful look, but I shook my head. Linden took an excited sip and nearly splashed it down her front.
“Silly me,” Linden said. “I’m far too eager to let my taste buds stroll down memory lane.”
“Perfect timing,” Florian said, rounding the corner of the exterior of the house. “I do love showing up as the drinks are served. Pleased to see it isn’t tea. I thought I’d have to sneak a spell to spruce mine up.”
“The weather is so pleasant,” my aunt said. “I decided that the spritzes were better suited to the temperature.”
“Your instincts are spot on as always, Hyacinth,” Craig said. He tasted more of his spritzer. “This really brings back happy memories, doesn’t it, Linden?”
“Do you remember how our grandparents would play the piano side by side?” She sighed at the memory. “He would play on the left and she would play on the right. What wonderful music they made together.”
“They’re the reason we’re both single,” Craig admitted. “It’s hard to measure up to a relationship like the one they had. I’ve been too intimidated to try.”
“Same,” Linden agreed. “And once Mother became ill, I couldn’t focus on much else anyway.”
“I understand,” I said. “When my husband died, I became fixated on my daughter. I didn’t make time for anything except earning a living and taking care of her.”
“That’s a good mother,” Craig said. “Dreadful about your husband.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Ember’s currently dating Alec Hale,” my aunt announced.
“Alec Hale?” Linden repeated. “The vampire?”
I nodded.
“How fascinating,” Linden said. She took another drink.
“Mother’s mellowed since Ember arrived in town,” Florian said. He’d already polished off his drink. “She’s not the coven hardliner she used to be.”
Aunt Hyacinth pinched his cheek. “You wish.”
“You’re her son and heir,” Craig said. “Her concern is understandable.”
“Presumably you’re a son and heir,” I said.
Craig’s expression clouded over. “Naturally. At my age, you can imagine the disappointment in my parents’ eyes every time they see me.”
I smacked Florian’s arm. “Study this guy. He’s your Ghost of Christmas Future.”
Marley laughed. As I turned to put my glass on an end table, I caught sight of a familiar leprechaun lurking on the edge of the lawn. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” I hurried across the grass to meet him. “What’s up, Little Hulk?”
He didn’t seem happy to be here. “Sorry to interpret your rich folks family gathering, but I need to talk to you.”
I frowned. “Is this about Shayna?”
“No, it’s worse.”
“Worse than a dead wedding guest?” Yikes. I almost didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
The leprechaun swore under his breath. “Dear gods, I hate to resort to this, but I’m desperate. Sheriff Nash is behaving…oddly.”
“Oddly how?”
He scratched the back of his head. “How should I put this? He’s behaving like a…like Wyatt.”
The Nash brothers couldn’t be further apart in personality. Where Granger was respectful and compassionate, Wyatt was a giant dung beetle.
“Did something happen?” I asked. “Maybe he hit his head?”
“And it accidentally switched him into jerk mode?’ the deputy asked, exasperated. “He’s not a toy. This has to be something else.”
“You think someone put a spell on him?” It was possible. This was Starry Hollow, after all.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, if you’re going to cast a spell on the sheriff, why would you make him…Wyatt?”
“I guess it depends on what your motivation is,” I said. “Are you sure he’s really acting out of character and not having a bad day or something?”
The leprechaun’s beady eyes fixed on me. “He’s at the Wishing Well right now. Why don’t you go check him out and let me know if you think he’s just having a bad day?”
A knot formed in my stomach. “Okay, I guess I can take a quick ride over there.”
The deputy zigzagged a finger in front of my outfit. “You might want to change before you go.”
I looked down at my clothes. “What’s wrong with this?” If it passed muster with Aunt Hyacinth, how could it not be appropriate for the Wishing Well?
“It’s a cute sundress, Rose,” the deputy said. “I don’t even play on your team and I can tell you that hits all the right notes with my gender.” He motioned in the direction of the cottage. “Go put on those baggy jeans you find so comfortable and a plaid shirt. The one that makes you look like a lumberjack.”
I squinted at him. “Are you sure Granger is the one with the issue right now?”
His nostrils flared. “Trust me. I wouldn’t be coming to you if I weren’t concerned and I certainly wouldn’t subject the sheriff to you unnecessarily.”
I glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean—subject the sheriff to me?”
“Come on, Rose. You know exactly what I mean. I want him to get over you and that means the less interaction, the better. You need to stop showing up when there’s a dead body. You’re like some kind of corpse psychic.”
“Corpse psychic?” Florian interjected. “I’d watch that show.”
“Where did you come from?” I asked.
“I was trying to eavesdrop from the veranda but it was too difficult, so I just decided to walk over.”
“I have to go,” I said. “Aunt Hyacinth won’t mind, will she?”
Florian snorted. “I don’t think she’d notice if we all vacated the premises. As long as Craig is there, we’re all just background noise.”
“Your aunt has another new beau?” Deputy Bolan asked. “Isn’t this her third in recent memory?”
“So what? She’s emerged from the relationship desert and my girl is thirsty,” I said. I cast a sidelong glance at Florian. “Now I know where you get it, by the way.” All this time I assumed that my cousin’s flirtatious ways were inherited from the Muldoon side of the family, but Aunt Hyacinth’s recent behavior had changed my opinion.
“Can I come with you?” Florian asked.
“I’m not planning to stay. I only want to help the deputy with an issue. Can you do me a favor and hang out with Marley until I get back?”
Florian glanced back at the veranda where Marley was patiently listening to Craig blather on about…well, probably the stock market and whether it’s a bull or a bear market right now.
“Okay, fine,” he said. “I can’t leave her in the lurch like that. It would be cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.” I turned to the leprechaun. “We’ll take my car so I don’t have to adjust the seat.”
The deputy pointed toward the cottage. “You’ll take your car because I’m not coming with you.”
“Why not?”
He waved his hands in front of him. “No way. If he figures out I sent you there, I’ll be on his list.”
“He keeps a list?” I could picture Aunt Hyacinth keeping a list of perceived slights, but not Sheriff Nash.
“You’re on your own, Rose,” he said, and scuttled back to his car.
“You sure you don’t want a wingman?” Florian asked.
I patted his chest. “Not today, Goose. I’m afraid I’ve got to take the highway to the danger zone all by myself.”
The darkened interior of the Wishing Well made it difficult to find the sheriff until my eyesight adjusted. I stood in the entryway and blinked a few times until his familiar silhouette came into view.
At first glance, I thought he was Wyatt. He was clearly making smooth moves on a pixie at the bar and she seemed to be totally on board with his suggestion.
I approached with caution. “Granger?”
The sheriff turned from his companion, his hand still on her thigh. “Oh, hey there. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Shouldn’t you be snuggling in front of a warm fire with that cold-blooded vamp of yours?”
The pixie giggled. “Get it? Because he’s dead, so he’s cold.”
I ignored her and focused on Granger. “What’s going on?”
He cocked his head. “You say that in a tone that suggests something shouldn’t be going on. Last time I checked, that was no longer your business.”
“You two used to date?” The pixie looked from the sheriff to me. “Huh. I never would’ve guessed.”
My hands moved to my hips. “Why not?”
The pixie shrugged. “You don’t seem like his type.”
I fought the urge to clap back. This wasn’t about me. This was about Granger’s behavior.
The sheriff must have sensed my inner struggle because a lazy grin emerged and he slung an arm around my shoulders. “Ladies, ladies. There’s more than enough of The Big G to go around. I’m a wolf, remember? Your needs are my needs.” He winked at the pixie.
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” I asked.
“As long as we’re only going to talk,” he said, nodding his head toward the pixie. “First come, first served.” He scratched the scruff along his jawline. “I guess it should be first served, first come.” He laughed.
I grabbed him by the back of his collar and tugged him toward a dark corner of the room.
“Ooh, it’s cozy here. I like where your head’s at, gorgeous,” he said. “Never could resist a pretty sundress.” He snaked an arm around my waist and I swatted it away.
“What’s gotten into you?” I demanded.
“You,” he said. “And Bessie over there.” He turned to wave at her. “And I like the looks of that blonde on the stool, too. Nice legs.”
Deputy Bolan was right. This was not the Granger I knew.
“I’d like to know how the investigation is coming along,” I said. Maybe I could get him to talk to me in sheriff mode.
The werewolf inched closer to me. “Why don’t you come back to my office where it’s nice and private and we’ll look over the notes together?”
“Granger, stop. Just be normal for a hot minute.”
He spread his arms wide. “This is normal, honeypot. I’m a Nash. This is who we are.”
My nose scrunched. “Honeypot? You always call me Rose.”
“I’m more than willing to call you anything you like.” He squeezed my butt and I pulled away, my temper flaring.
“You know what? Forget it. Whatever’s going on with you, you’re on your own.”
“Fine by me. That’s the way I like it anyway. Lone wolf stalking his prey.” He sauntered back to Bessie, leaving me alone in the corner of the bar.
“Wow, that was brutal,” a voice said.
I shifted to a shadowy figure huddled in the corner booth. “Deputy! I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I wanted to see if his behavior changed when you were alone. He couldn’t know I was here.”
“Well, he failed your test. Or passed. Whatever.” I groaned. “If this keeps up, it’s going to be a mess.” The Starry Hollow sheriff couldn’t run around town acting like a womanizing fool. One Wyatt Nash was enough for the whole town and, thankfully, he wasn’t in a position of authority.
The deputy blew out a breath. “Yeah, the question is—what do I do about it?”
“How far into the investigation are you?” I asked.
“We spoke to Franco and Brad,” he began.
I snapped my fingers. “Brad! Why can’t I remember that kid’s name?”
“Because you’re too self-involved?”
I ignored him. “And you ruled them out?”
“Yeah. No motives and neither one had ventured over to the toilets during the wedding. There are witnesses to vouch for them the whole time, but Mr. Lothario has been too busy chasing tail to chase leads.”
“And we’ve got a murderer on the loose.”
“That we do.”
I slumped in the chair across from him. “You blame me for this, don’t you?”
The leprechaun didn’t meet my gaze. “I’m not interested in blame, Rose. I’m interested in helping my friend.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder to see Granger smacking lips with the pixie. Although I wanted him to be happy, I knew this wasn’t the way.
“The only thing I can recommend right now is a cold shower.”
“Tried that last night,” the deputy said. “Ended up wrestling a wolf on a wet bathroom floor. Trust me. Not as sexy as it sounds.”
“Hopefully it’s a phase and he’ll snap out of it quickly,” I said, not sure whether I truly believed it.
He cut a glance at the bar sign. “This is the Wishing Well. I guess I’ll toss in a coin and see if that does the trick.” He observed the sheriff for another uncomfortable moment. “Do me a favor and make sure none of this ends up in the paper. I don’t want a permanent record of this.”
“It’s Vox Populi not Radar Online. We don’t use the word canoodling.”
“I think I can guess where his noodle is ending up tonight.”
I cringed. “A pox upon your house for that visual.”
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“It bothers you, too. Why else did you drag me down here?”
Deputy Bolan fixed me with a hard stare. “You know what I mean.”
I rose to my feet. “I gave up the right to be bothered in that way. I have no claim on him.”
“You do when you’re still walking around with hi
s heart, Rose.”
My chest squeezed. “Good luck with the investigation, Deputy. I hope he comes to his senses soon.” I left the bar without a backward glance and hurried to my car, wanting to put distance between us. If Granger wanted to sow his wild oats, it wasn’t my place to whack him with a rake. As tempted as I was to help, Granger was going to have to work through this one on his own.
Chapter Five
“Is that your ancestor’s grimoire?” Alec asked as he stood and stretched. He’d been on the sofa in the cottage, working on the edits for his latest book while I poked through the grimoire at the table. I was feeling uncharacteristically proud of myself because I’d managed to use Calla’s Illumináre spell to read the contents in English.
“Yes, I’ve been trying to see if there are any clues.”
“Clues to what?” He leaned down and nuzzled the side of my neck.
“To her. To what happened. Like, why does her wand feel like it was crafted with the tears of puppies and lost toys?”
He sat beside me and looked at the grimoire. “This is simply a book of spells, Ember. It doesn’t seem to include anything of a personal nature.”
“No, I’d need her Book of Shadows for that, but we have to work with what we’ve got.” I flipped the page and the title of the next spell caught my eye. “Hmm. This has potential.”
He inched closer and I felt my body grow warmer in response. “A summoning spell?”
“I’m sure it’s advanced level magic, but how impressive would I be if I managed it?” One successful language spell and confidence was suddenly seeping from my pores.
Alec scanned the rest of the spell. “I’m no expert, but it seems quite involved.”
“I’m summoning a spirit,” I said. “It can’t be as easy as ordering a pizza for takeout or everyone would be doing it.”
“Are you certain it’s safe?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s magic. I guess there are always risks.”
“What if you summon the wrong spirit?” he asked. “What if it’s a demon or…?”
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now you sound like me. Don’t worry. I’m not going to summon some hot demon and replace you—unless he shows up with a box of fudge. I’m a sucker for homemade fudge.”
Magic & Maladies Page 4
