by Amy Boyles
The waitress dropped the check, and Vic snatched it up before I had a chance to grab it. “Maybe it’s over-the-top. Maybe it isn’t. All I know is what I saw.”
He dropped a couple of bills on the table. “But before I’d go around asking other people if they killed Frankie, I’d investigate inside my own house.”
He rose. “Nice having lunch with you. If you need anything else, Charming, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
With that Vic left the restaurant. I sat in the chair feeling deflated and defeated. What if he was right? What if my own mother had something to do with Frankie’s death?
That was ridiculous. First of all, Mama knew the skull wanted me to find the killer. That was a major point in the skull leaving when this was over. Mama would admit it if she killed Frankie just to keep magic from being destroyed by the prophecy. I believed that.
My gaze drifted around the room until it landed on Broom. A server picked it up and moved to sweep under a table. Broom wiggled and jumped—it apparently did not appreciate being manhandled by someone it didn’t know. The server shrieked, releasing his hold.
Broom skirted across the floor and stopped at my table. At that point everyone glanced over at us. I winced.
“Looks like it’s time to go.”
I grabbed Broom and left.
Unsure of where to go next, I headed back home. Mama’s and the skull’s voices drifted into the hall from the living room.
“That’s when I told Charming that she hadn’t dated a real man in forever and it was time to do so. So she went out with the vampire.”
As if, I thought.
“So you would say that you’re the reason the two of them got together?”
“I would definitely say that,” Mama said proudly.
I glanced at Broom, who bobbed up and down as in a shrug. I entered the living room and leaned against the doorframe. “What exactly is going on in here?”
Mama sat on the couch, her feet raised onto a footstool. The skull hovered in front of her, and a bottle of nail polish dangled in front of it. The brush dipped into the polish. Coral-colored lacquer covered the brown bristles, and the brush proceeded to color my mother’s toenails.
The skull tsked. “It’s as I always say, Glinda, when you’re talking about someone, they tend to show up. Good thing I don’t have ears or else they’d be burning.”
The skull laughed at its own joke.
I stared at it. “Are you painting my mother’s toenails?”
“I am.” Wonder filled its distinctively masculine yet refined voice. “I’ve discovered that there are certain things I like to do. One of those is pedicures. We’ve been having the most wonderful time, haven’t we, Glinda?”
Mama nodded. “We absolutely have. It’s just been great.” She waved her fingers over her finished toes and dried them in an instant.
Mama rose from the chair. “The skull and I have been getting along so well I think you need to consider taking him along with you.”
I gaped. “With me?”
The skull, who wasn’t flaming anymore, floated up, stopping at eye level. “Oh yes. I think I could be an immense help to you. Not that I have a way with words or anything, as I just learned how to speak, but I could make sure you don’t trip over anything. If you need a coffee, I can always run and get it.”
“It can give you a manicure as well,” Mama pointed out as if this was a serious plus to our relationship.
“I don’t need any help.” Not from a skull that talks, at least.
“Nonsense, Charming,” Mama said with finality. “It’s all decided. You take the skull with you. See what you can find out about who killed Frankie. If you need me or Rose, of course we’ll be here to offer assistance, but this is your task. That’s what the skull said, after all.”
Unbelievable. The skull was being dumped on me.
“Do you have any leads?” the thing asked energetically—too energetically if you wanted to know the truth.
“Maybe.”
“Wonderful. Well, I’ll be happy to help however I can. When do we leave? Now? I’m all set. Ready to go.”
“Well, actually, I was coming back here to figure out where to go next.”
“Perfect.”
The skull stared in the direction of the bottle of nail polish. The brush inserted into the body and floated to a table.
It continued talking. “We can get in your car and decide what to do. You have a car, right?”
“Um, yeah. You rode in it.”
“Oh that’s right. Silly me. I forgot.” The skull burst into flames as it floated right on by me. “Now. What are we waiting for? Let’s get to work.”
I shook my finger at it. “You’re not going to try any funny business, right? No trying to attach to me?”
“A deal’s a deal.”
My gaze zipped back to Mama, who smiled widely. “Go on, Charming. I think you’ll enjoy the company.”
From its position in the corner, Broom shuddered. I considered taking the broom with me, but I didn’t want it to get set on fire. There was no telling if the skull would accidentally-on-purpose incinerate the object. I know Mama thought this thing was the bees knees, but I wasn’t convinced.
I crossed to Broom. “Stay here with Mama, please. See if she needs help cleaning things up. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Broom hopped up and down, something it did when it seemed happy.
I turned to the skull. “Okay, there’s one place we need to go.”
The skull floated toward the door. “Lead me onward, Charming. I’m following you.”
As soon as we stepped outside, I was acutely aware of the effect the skull’s presence had on people. Witches and wizards turned to see the little guy floating alongside me.
“I’ve never been in a car before. Not by myself. I’m usually being worn by someone. When I was alive, we didn’t have cars. I suspect this will be fun,” he said with great enthusiasm. “Do you drive fast? I like to go fast.”
I opened the door. The skull floated inside and I followed. Once we were locked in, I turned to it. “Listen, we are not supposed to be friends, you and I.”
“Oh?” Disappointment filled its voice. “But Frankie was so boring. She never talked to me.”
“Because you couldn’t talk with her. But apparently you have a lot to say.”
“Oh, I do. In fact, I was thinking I’d like to be called Eugene. What do you think?” Without waiting for my answer, it kept on. “I think it’s perfect. Best name I could have thought of. I’m sold. From now on, call me Eugene. And not Gene or any other variation, simply Eugene.”
I took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel. Lord, help me. How was I going to make it through the next minute, much less the entire day?
“Eugene,” I said slowly, letting the word sink into the skull’s tiny brain.
“Yes?” he said in a perky voice.
“Listen. I need you to lay low. We’re going to talk to a couple of men who were nearby when things happened to Frankie. But I don’t want them to know that one, you can talk, and that two, I have you. Got it?”
“Oh yes, that means as you say, that I need to zip my mouth. No problem there. I can zip all day.”
“Great.” I tapped my finger on the wheel in thought. “The other thing is that you can’t be seen floating beside me. It looks suspicious and Thorne might find out.”
“Is he the handsome vampire you have the hots for?”
“What? Where did you hear that?”
“Your great-aunt and mother filled me in on a lot while you were gone.”
“Apparently,” I grumbled. “He’s the vampire, yes.”
“Why don’t you put me around your neck?”
I shivered. “I don’t know about that.”
Eugene floated to my eye level. “I’ve already promised not to bond with you. I won’t break the deal. If you wear me around your neck, I’ll be able to see and hear what’s going on. I promise not
to speak, only to listen. Besides, this is a whole new world for me. Before I could only watch. Now I can watch and talk. It’s so exciting.”
I considered his offer. “You promise not to speak and not to bond with me?”
“As Eugene the Skull, I solemnly swear that I will not do anything to jeopardize the deal we already have.”
I studied him, but when you’re staring into two black sockets instead of actual eyes, it’s hard to gauge what’s true and what isn’t. But since my choices were limited on where I could actually tuck Eugene, hanging him around my neck seemed the most sensible option.
I sighed in agreement. “Okay. I’ll wear you. But no funny business,” I said sharply. “My mother finds out you’ve done anything, and she’ll pull your flames out of your eyes slowly. I promise it’ll be painful.”
Heck, I didn’t know if it would be, but it sounded good.
The skull dipped its head in a nod. “As Eugene, I promise not to do anything funny. I will stick to the course. Now. Put me on and we’ll go find the killer.”
I grabbed his chain. “Flames out,” I insisted.
The fire extinguished. Smoke filled the cabin. I waved it away and lightly touched Eugene to make sure it wasn’t too hot.
Satisfied it wouldn’t melt my skin, I grabbed the chain and hooked the skull around my neck. “All right. Let’s go find a killer.”
Chapter 14
We found Watts Pugh in his garden planting mums for the upcoming fall season.
“Mr. Pugh?”
Watts shoved his trowel into the dirt and glanced up. “Ms. Calhoun.” He tugged off his gloves and extended his hand. “It’s just awful, isn’t it? Terrible about Frankie.”
“It is.”
Though I thought Watts was only going to shake my hand, instead he pulled me into a rough hug.
“Oh.” The wind rushed from my lungs as I battered against his chest. “How’re you holding up?”
Watts released me and gestured to his flower patch. “It’s the only thing that keeps me busy. If I think about it too much, it hurts.”
I grimaced, feeling his pain. Not because I knew what it was like to miss Frankie, but because I knew from experience that losing someone hurt, often like you’d sliced out your own heart and tossed it on a barbecue to be scorched.
“If you have some time, maybe we can go inside and talk about it.”
Watts hesitated. He glanced at his front door and shook his head. “Now’s not a good time. I’ve been pretty upset, broke some things in the house.”
He collapsed to his knees and wept. Watts covered his eyes as sobs racked his body. “I thought she was the one. I thought we’d get together, make it work, last forever. But it wasn’t to be.”
Here’s where the tricky part came in. I almost hated to bring it up, but I had no choice.
I cleared my throat. “I heard you moved here recently, just before Frankie showed up. Bentley Falls?”
“Yep,” he said.
“Isn’t that where Frankie lived before coming here?”
He sniffled. “It’s funny how fate puts two people together, isn’t it?”
Watts glanced up at me. Tears bubbled in his eyes. “I’d known about Frankie forever, of course I had. I’d seen her but never imagined I could possibly have been her soul mate. When she appeared in Witch’s Forge and I was one of the chosen, I couldn’t believe it. It was finally my chance to bond with her, get to know this woman I’d admired from afar for so long.”
He inhaled as if smelling a bouquet of flowers. A blissful expression crossed his face. “It was a dream come true to meet her. Now she’s dead. Dead!”
Watts buried his face in his hands. He sobbed to the point where it was uncomfortable—for me.
I still needed to talk to Tex.
What was the best way to untangle myself from a grown man blubbering into his mums?
Very carefully?
“Mr. Pugh, can I get you anything?”
He reached for me, and I extended my arm. Watts proceeded to shift all his weight onto me. I lurched forward and locked my knees to avoid falling over.
“No, Charming.” Snot dripped from his nose. I almost barfed. “I’m okay. I’ll be all right. I’m just waiting for the funeral, when I can bury Frankie and move on with my life. If I can ever move on.”
He shook his fist at the sky. “Why her? Why’d you have to take her?”
“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” I said. “Because you know Frankie had a lot of enemies.”
Watts spat with disdain. Right into his mums. Maybe he considered that a type of newfangled watering system.
“The only enemy I know that Frankie had was your mother,” he snapped. “Everyone knew Glinda Calhoun hated her. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”
I bristled. This was the second time today that someone had mentioned my mom. It was starting to irk me.
Which was why I rushed to Mama’s defense. “I know they weren’t the closest of friends, but my mother had nothing to do with Frankie’s murder.”
Watts cocked a brow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He ran a gloved hand over his hair and turned back to his mums. “It was well known that your mother and Frankie used to cast spells against each other.”
That was news to me. “What are you talking about?”
Let’s be honest, I wasn’t sure I believed a sniveling man who was planting mums only days after his wannabe girlfriend was murdered.
There was simply something off about it. Don’t ask me why, but that’s the impression I had.
Watts hiked both shoulders to his ears. “I’m saying one time Glinda exchanged Frankie’s red lipstick for a potion filled with fire ants. Made her lips blister up. That’s what Frankie said. Another time Frankie made it so that when Glinda stepped outside, her skirt blew into her face.”
He shot me a pointed look. “You can imagine what everyone got to see when that happened.”
Yep, my mother’s pink panties. “That was a long time ago. These women grew up. Became adults.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Frankie confided in me the night she died that she was fairly certain your mother had pulled a trick on her again.”
“Oh?”
“Said she received a bouquet of black roses.”
“My mother didn’t do that.” I folded my arms. “I was with Frankie when that happened. Sending a bouquet with roaches? That’s not Mama’s style.”
Watts handed me a cheap plastic planter, the kind you get from the store. “Pull that mum out for me, would you?”
I pulled the orange plant out. “Here you go.”
“That bouquet wasn’t the only thing about it—the roaches, I mean,” he explained. “Once your mom dropped a whole bunch of roaches in Frankie’s hair. That’s what made Frankie think Glinda sent the flowers.”
My stomach knotted. Could that be true? Why would my mother perform such petty magic on Frankie? That wasn’t like her.
“But Frankie never said a word to me about her theory,” I murmured.
“Why would she?” Watts patted the soil surrounding the newly planted mum. “You were helping her find her soul mate. The last thing Frankie wanted to do was upset you.”
“I have a hard time believing this.”
Watts waved the shovel in his hand. “Believe it or not, doesn’t matter to me. But if you want to know who had the most reason to want to kill Frankie Firewalker, it was Glinda Calhoun. That’s all I’m saying.”
Watts rose and brushed off his pants. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ve planted my mums and need some time to mourn.”
I stepped out of his path. “Of course.”
Watts strode onto his porch and pulled the screen door open. He paused. As if a thought had occurred to him, he turned around. “And Charming?”
“Yes?”
“People will tell you that a lot of folks had reason to want Frankie dead, but the truth is, she never wound up murdered
until coming to Witch’s Forge. That’s something to think about.”
Before I could respond, Watts disappeared inside his house, letting the door slam behind him.
Eugene spoke for the first time since arriving. “Sounds like this Glinda Calhoun lady is who we should be interviewing next. I’ll be glad to ride along, see what I think of her excuse for where she was the day Frankie was murdered.”
“Eugene!”
“What is it?”
“Glinda is my mother.”
“I don’t know that word, ‘mother.’”
I nearly smacked myself on the forehead. “That’s the woman you gave a pedicure to. At the house.”
“Oh,” he said as realization hit him. “I thought Glinda was more common a name than that. Do you think she killed Frankie?”
“No, I do not think she killed Frankie,” I snapped. “I don’t think she had anything to do with it.” I exhaled a deep breath. “I think we need to talk to Tex. See what he has to say.”
“About what?”
I threw up my hands. “Ah!”
Thorne’s voice surprised me. I didn’t know why. I should have been used to being surprised by the vampire. He had a bad habit of sneaking up behind me and speaking out of turn.
I whirled around, fuming. Fireworks nearly flew from my eyes. “Just what do you think is okay about scaring someone half to death?”
Thorne hid a smile behind his hand. “What makes you think I was trying to scare you?”
I waved my arms. “You started talking to me out of the blue. Listening to my conversation.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced around. “Who were you talking to?”
Oh sheesh. Another awesome secret I had to keep from Thorne. “No one.”
He cocked a brow.
It was the only excuse I had in my arsenal, so as stupid as it sounded, it was the best one. “I was talking to myself, okay? Sometimes when a problem presents, the best way I know to work out a solution is to talk about it.”
His voice dripped with sarcasm. “To yourself.”
I hugged my arms as if talking about it made me self-conscious. “Yes, to myself if you must know, Mr. Nosy.”
He raised his palms in surrender. “You’re the one who offered the explanation.”
