by Amy Boyles
He nodded.
“Oh, all right.” She swatted the air. “At one point I may or may not have thrown a chicken into her yard and screamed that I would see her in Hades.” She sniffed and pumped the bottom of her hair. “Of course I didn’t use the word Hades. I used that other one.”
I had to fight to keep from laughing. “You threw a chicken in her yard.”
“You would’ve thrown a lot worse if you’d had to deal with what I did. That woman was incorrigible. One morning I awoke and all my grass was dead. Dead. Even the trees. Cookie Mobley did whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. If you want to know the truth, I’m surprised she wasn’t murdered a long time ago. There. I said it. It wasn’t me who killed her, obviously, but I’m not the least bit surprised.”
Axel’s jaw tightened. I had a perfect view of his gorgeous profile—razor sharp jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones. He was so handsome. His beauty had such a hold on me that I barely noticed he’d moved the conversation along.
“Can you think of anyone who might’ve had a problem with Cookie—you know, to the point where they’d want to throw her over the hedges and not a roast chicken?”
“I never said the chicken was cooked.” Blanche smiled. “But anyway, I tell you what—the person I’d ask would be the new neighbors. From what I understand, Cookie was up to her old tricks. Wanted to put a Grecian gazebo in her yard. You’d think she’d use magic to fit it all in, but no, Cookie had to claim her territory the old-fashioned way—with grit and spit.”
I brushed crumbs from my jacket. “The new neighbors, what are their names?”
“I believe it’s the Barkers. I’m sure if anyone has the goods on Cookie Mobley, it would be them.”
We thanked Blanche Gabin and left. As soon as I snuggled into the front seat, I glanced at my watch. “Almost time to open.”
Axel put the truck in reverse and backed out of the drive. “Why don’t you call Betty and see if she’ll fill in for a few minutes? I get the feeling we’ll need to talk to the Barkers.”
“Why? I didn’t do too much to help you with Blanche.”
He tipped his head toward me. “You’re not giving yourself any credit. You were great. If it hadn’t been for Hugo, I don’t think we would’ve gotten in at all.”
“Ah, so it’s my dragon you want me for.”
“Among other things.”
I smiled. “I don’t know, something weird is going on with Betty.”
“What?”
“Says her power’s broken.”
He steered us through the streets. “What happened?”
I explained about the candy. Axel listened quietly, his eyes searching as he steered us in what I had thought was the direction of Bubbling Cauldron, but turned out we ended up outside Betty’s house.
“What’re we doing here?” I said.
He killed the engine. “We’re going to talk to your grandmother, see if what she says is true.”
I gazed up at the headliner. “You’re kidding, right? Do you really think Betty’s power is broken? I’m thinking maybe she just needed a good night’s sleep.”
He nodded toward the cottage. “Have you looked at the candy this morning?”
“Yeah, I mean, I glanced at it. Why?”
Axel pointed. “Was it like that?”
I stared out the window. My gaze snagged on the striped peppermint goo. It hugged the house as if it wanted to squeeze the very life from it. Red and white ribbon dropped and sagged, weighing down the boards. A distinct rumble burped from the structure.
“What was that?”
Axel unsnapped his seat belt. “Unless I’m wrong—and I am sometimes very, very wrong—it sounds like the ribbon is swallowing the house. Like if you gave the candy the opportunity, it would take over like a fungus until nothing’s left.”
I swallowed a knot a nerves. I slowly dragged my gaze from the candy to Axel. Lines of worry were etched so deeply into his face it startled me.
“So do you think Betty’s powers are broken?”
Axel nodded. “Absolutely. No doubt about it.”
TWELVE
When we got inside Betty was hard at work by the fire. “It won’t do what I want,” she murmured. “It’s not working. None of it is working.”
Arsenal the Beagle shot out from behind her and toppled roly-poly into Hugo. The two animals tangled into a mess of playful snarls and yelps.
“He’s still here?” Axel said.
I shrugged. “The dog keeps coming back. What can I say? He likes it better here than at his house.”
“Betty?” Axel said.
Her mumbling reminded me of a madwoman. You know, the kind you see in movies with dark, stringy hair covering their faces. Oh, and the woman is always barefoot and wearing a drab, stained dress. Yep, that’s what Betty was like—minus the crazy hair, bare feet and dress, that was.
“It just won’t work.”
Axel shot me a worried look before gently guiding Betty away from the fire. “I saw the candy.”
“Has it eaten the house yet?” She worried her hands like Lady Macbeth trying to out the spot.
“Not yet, but a couple of days and it will.” He settled Betty into her rocker. “What’s going on?”
Betty stared at her hands in disbelief. “I don’t know. If I knew that, I’d have this here thing fixed in no time. But I can’t. First Christmas I won’t be able to do anything. It’s a disaster.”
Axel squeezed her arms. “No, we can figure this out. Tell me everything you remember.”
Turned out, it wasn’t much. It was basically the same story that she told my cousins and me. There was a pop and her power broke. Not much else to it.
Axel patted his thigh and rose. “Let’s try some basic stuff. Basic spells and see where you’re at.”
“It’s no use,” Betty moaned. “I’ve lost my touch.”
Who was this woman? This wasn’t the Betty Craple I met my first day in town. Minutes after I’d been found holding a bloody knife, Betty threatened the existing sheriff if he laid a single fingernail on me.
Where was the woman who greeted my late-night dates with a shotgun strapped across her legs?
This was not that woman. This woman was a dried-up cornhusk of that woman. She was the brown stalk of a cotton blossom. That’s who this woman was. This was not Betty Craple.
I planted my feet wide, bent over and glared in her beady eyes. “You’ve got to get it together. What in heck’s bells is going on here? Where’s your gumption? Your spitfire? The Betty Craple I know wouldn’t lie down and die when a car ran over her. The Betty Craple I know would fight. You’re a fighter. Time to start acting like it.”
Betty’s lower lip trembled. I think I scared the willies out of her, if you want to know the truth.
She yanked her glasses from her face and rubbed her eyes. “You’re right, Pepper.” A faint smile danced over her lips. “I’ll give it a try.”
“Great.” Axel led her to the fire. “Using the power of the hearth, I want you to do something small.” He snapped a dried herb from a bundle over the mantel. “Light this.”
Betty pinched her lips and narrowed her eyes. It looked like she was trying to give herself an aneurysm more than working magic. This should’ve been easy for her. Plenty of times I’d watched as fire ignited on the tip of her finger so she could light her pipe.
Betty pressed one side of her nose closed. A curlicue of magic zipped from the open nostril and wound around the stick.
A thick layer of ice coiled around the herb. Betty thrust it toward us. “See? See this? I’m broken. My power is broken! I told y’all.”
It did indeed appear that her magic wasn’t right. I grimaced. “What’s wrong with it?”
Axle tapped a fist to his mouth. “Let me look at you.”
“If you must,” she grumbled.
Axel led her away from the fire. He closed his eyes and raised his palms. Power lit his hands. He swept them over Betty, looking more martial a
rtist than wizard.
Heck, either way he looked good to me.
Axel moved his palms down Betty, pausing at certain points along her body—her fingertips, her heart, her stomach—then he continued on. He kept his eyes closed, allowing his hands to do the work.
After a couple of minutes his lids fluttered open. “Betty, you have a problem.”
She looked like she wanted to spit nails. “Dagnabbit, I been telling y’all I have a problem. What is it?”
Axel rested his muscular hands seductively on his hips. I don’t think he meant to be seductive, but there wasn’t much he did that wasn’t.
“You’ve been spelled.”
Betty shook an angry fist. “I knew it! Someone’s hexed me.”
Axel twitched his head. “Not hexed. This isn’t a hex. It’s more than that.”
“It’s a curse, then. If I discover who cursed me, I’m going to curse their butt!”
“It’s not a curse, either.”
“Then what in tarnation is it?”
Axel rubbed his jaw in thought. “It’s a simple tethering spell.”
“There’s nothing simple about my magic being broken!” If nails could’ve spewed from her mouth so that my grandmother was spitting them, I’m sure they would’ve. Boy, was she ticked.
Axel stepped around her. “But it is a tethering spell. Someone tethered your magic to themselves. I don’t know what set off the magic, but there had to have been an incident.”
Betty threw up her hands. “What do we do now?”
“The only thing we can do—discover who did this to you. That’ll help us find the answer.”
I studied my grandmother. She seemed perfectly fine, except for her power being off. “But how do we discover who did that?”
Axel pointed to the fire. “Is this thing working right?”
She scratched her chin. “Believe so. Nobody would dare mess with the fire or else they’d be burned toast.”
“What do you mean about the fire?” I knew the fire never burned out, but I never bothered to think more about it than that. It was a fire; it burned in the house. What more was there to know?
“This fire”—Betty pointed to it—“has been in our family for centuries.”
I yanked my ear to make sure there wasn’t something in it obstructing my hearing. “I’m sorry, what? Centuries?”
She nodded. “Yes, this fire is very important. Within it lies the heart of your great-great-great-great-grandfather. There might be more. It’s easy to lose count with all those greats. It’s hard to say.”
My stomach lurched. Vomit crept up the back of my throat. “Did you say heart? You don’t mean his heart, do you? Not really a heart, like a beating organ? That’s not what you mean, right? No. You couldn’t mean that. Not like a human heart. Not possible.”
Boy, I was seriously getting nervous these days. Rambling was becoming second nature to me.
Betty and Axel exchanged a look. Axel tilted his head slightly as if to say he would handle this. “I know this is strange, Pepper. I know it makes no sense, but what Betty’s saying is right.”
Betty removed her glasses. It added a hint of dramatic flair to the moment. “The reason why this fire never burns out is because it houses the heart of your ancestor. When I die, the heart fire will become yours. But before that happens, Christmas in Magnolia Cove depends on this flame, and right now I’m unable to be its vessel.”
I groaned. “Please don’t tell me any more. Really, you don’t have to.”
My stomach twisted. This was going to be news I didn’t want to hear. I knew it would. I wouldn’t want to know any part of this.
Betty gripped my shoulders with hands of iron. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Pepper, but since my magic is broken, it’s up to you to keep Christmas in Magnolia Cove going. Without you, there will be no snow, no cheer and most all, no Christmas wishes. Christmas won’t happen.”
I shot her a dark look. “You’re being dramatic.”
Axel’s jaw flexed. “I’m afraid she’s not. Pepper, everything in Magnolia Cove, including Christmas, depends on Betty being able to harness that fire. If she can’t, we’ll have a lot worse things on our hands than a candy ribbon that wants to devour this house. Without that fire, Christmas wishes could go wrong.”
I swallowed an egg in my throat. “So it’s true. Christmas depends on me?”
Arsenal yipped at my feet as if to say it did.
Great. As if I didn’t have enough to do.
THIRTEEN
“I’m sorry, y’all, but I don’t have time to save Christmas.” I jutted out my hip. “I have a store to run, a murder to help solve. What are y’all about? Standing in front of the hearth fire and cooing at it? I’m sure whatever I need to do, it’s incredibly easy and anybody else can do it. I’m busy.”
Obviously I was convinced it didn’t have to be me.
“This might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Axel said.
I shot him a look that said, really?
Betty grabbed Axel’s arm. “But it can wait, Pepper, it can wait. There’s no need to rush. I can look around, see if anyone else might fit the bill. I don’t want to tax you. Go to work, sell some animals.”
I glared at her suspiciously. “I think you’re stalling, but I don’t know why.”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I’m not stalling. If there are other things that are more pressing, go do them. Christmas or Magnolia Cove won’t collapse in a few hours…I don’t think.”
I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re guilting me.”
She waddled up to me and smooshed my cheeks in her palms. “Would I guilt you, kid?”
“Yes.”
She released me from her iron grip. “I might. But not this time. Go do stuff. Live a little. Sell some animals, like I said.”
I studied her, looking for any crack in her facade, any weakness that suggested she meant otherwise.
I saw none. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
I nodded to Axel. “Don’t we also want to talk to the Mobley’s new neighbors, the Barkers?”
Axel raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I want to, but Betty can’t watch Familiar Place. Not the way she is.”
Betty backed away. “Y’all don’t want me in there. I’ll probably sell someone a peacock when they need a goldfish.”
“Definitely a problem.”
As if on cue, the front door swung open. My aunts Mint and Licky stepped inside. “Did we hear someone say that you need help at Familiar Place?”
My jaw dropped. “Were you eavesdropping?”
Mint brushed her luscious wavy hair from her shoulders. “Of course we were. We saw the disaster of the candy outside and decided to listen in.”
Licky smiled proudly. “Pepper, we’ll be happy to help. The two of us can work at Familiar Place today. Just as long as you need us. You probably won’t be that busy this morning. People are sleeping in. Kids are out of school.”
“People are last minute shopping,” Betty grumbled. “The place will be packed.”
Licky took my hands and squeezed them gently. “We can help. Trust us. Didn’t we make the potion that saved half the town from the Thanksgiving pies gone wrong?”
That was true. Had it only been a month ago that the town had been dosed with a giving spell that nearly killed them? My, how time did fly.
But Licky was right. If it hadn’t been for my aunts, things could’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong then. Maybe they could handle the animals. But then again, maybe not.
“We used to help Uncle Donovan,” Mint said. “He showed us how to match folks. We weren’t as talented as him, of course, but we were pretty good.”
I glanced at Betty. I wasn’t sure if my face held hope or fear—probably a mixture of both.
My grandmother nodded. “They used to help Donovan. It’s true.”
I exhaled a deep shot of air. That at least made me feel better. If Donovan tr
usted my aunts, surely they could do the job.
After all, it would only be for a few hours, right?
Surely it would only be that long. What was the worst that could happen?
“Okay.” I pulled the key from my purse and pressed it into Mint’s palm. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, call me. It’s no problem to drop whatever I’m doing to help. Or if anyone asks for me directly, just tell them to come back or call me. Okay?”
Mint patted my cheek as if I was a cute but terribly stupid puppy. “It’ll be fine. Trust us, Pepper. It will all be okay.”
“If you’re sure. If you want to back out, do so now.”
Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. This was their last chance.
Mint dangled the key. “We’ll be fine. Do whatever it is you need.”
“We’d better hurry, Mint. It’s time to open.” Licky blew me a kiss, and with that, my aunts disappeared in a puff of smoke.
My stomach coiled into a cobra. I put on my biggest smile and turned to Axel and Betty. “Okay. What do we do first?”
Turned out first thing was to speak to the Barkers. “We have time to teach you how to work the fire.”
“I don’t understand why it has to be me.”
Did it sound like I was complaining? I was. All this witchy responsibility took some getting used to. It was one thing to be the big familiar matcher in town, quite another to now be in charge of Christmas.
No pressure, right?
On another subject, it seemed Mrs. Barker was a stay-at-home mom with three kids under five.
Poor woman. She looked more frazzled than a college student the first day of sorority rush.
“Yes?” A child climbed up her leg. Mrs. Barker yanked the kid off and dangled the toddler by the arm before gently setting her down. “Yes?” she repeated.
I couldn’t speak because another child suddenly appeared over her shoulder. A little girl with a tiara tucked into her blonde curls and sticky red hands crawled up Mrs. Barker’s head.
“What can I do for you?”
Axel and I watched as a third child, a boy, peered out from between Mrs. Barker’s legs.
