by Ellie Moses
He lit out of there like a cat with its tail on fire. At least my day had ended with a good laugh. Ray fixed that by walking through me as I went back inside to close up shop.
“If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, all you have to do to know what I'm thinkin’ is ask.” I reminded him and turned the lock on the door.
Truth be told, I liked it when Ray passed through me. His presence, even when he was upset with me, was a warm comfort. It felt like he was hugging me tight like he did when he was still alive.
“The Sheriff will hunt him all night, Jolene. You fixin’ to call Dixie?”
I blew out each candle as I walked the perimeter of the shop. “The news won’t travel any slower in the morning if it sits overnight.”
Delilah circled Ray with intent and I remembered she still hadn't eaten. I stepped between her and my invisible man, though she couldn't really hurt a ghost. Unless my life was at stake.
We locked eyes and I forgave her for letting her lion out. It wasn't her fault my cousin came in smelling like a bad dog.
When our silent conversation was complete, and I'd bent down to take her left front paw, Delilah switched back to her gorgeous, swanky Persian self.
She followed me to the back room and I gave her two extra cans of Fussy Feast for her troubles.
Ray followed us and the cool breeze from his amorphous hand as he tried to push aside one of the damp curls at my neck felt like a kiss from an angel.
“Jolene, you know you ought to go see your aunt tonight. This is big. Billy Jack might not wriggle his way out of this one.”
I knew he was right, he always was. But I also knew Sheriff Quinn couldn’t find Billy Jack if my cousin was standing right in front of him. “All I want is to get a cold drink, some hot grub, and fall into bed. There'll be enough trouble for tomorrow. No need to borrow more tonight.”
2
Paisley Jane James, aka PJ, and Bonita Felton burst through my door before I could get the sign turned to OPEN.
“Jolene, you poor thing!” PJ wailed and hugged me tight like I was about to punch my ticket to glory. Bonita rolled her eyes, but still she was worried about me. I could tell because she kept trying to bite her acrylic nails. That was a sign of high anxiety for Bonita. Those things cost her a whole week’s worth of a paycheck.
“PJ, let loose of her. Heavens to Betsy! The girl can’t tell us nothing if you squeeze the life out of her.” Bonita took PJ by the arm and pulled her away.
My two best friends were witches, like me, but as different as night and day. PJ was a brassy redhead who ran the beauty shop two doors down and Bonita, with her bronze skin and corkscrew curls, worked at the courthouse in the town square.
Where Bonita was all business with suit jackets, pencil skirts, and glasses that made her look as smart as she was, PJ’s favorite thing to wear was leopard print spandex, feather boas that were preferably pink, and high heels that she teetered around on even for trips to the Piggly Wiggly, the one grocery store in town.
Just watching PJ sway on those heels around my shop made me nervous for her, but I swan she was born with heels on!
“You two could have at least brought me some powdered donuts and an iced vanilla latte if we’re going to have a pity party.” I looked at the pair expectantly.
They both turned up their noses at my iced coffee obsession. No one drank iced coffee in this town but me. Some said it was because my heart was so cold without a man to keep me warm. But not my friends. They knew I had my quirks like everybody else.
Bonita turned and retrieved the bag of donuts and the iced coffee she’d placed on the table by the door when PJ grabbed me earlier. She handed them to me with a mischievous smile. “You know your ride or dies wouldn’t leave you hanging this morning, Jo.”
“Mmmhmmm,” I murmured as I took a sip of cold vanilla goodness. I was going to need all the sugar and caffeine I could get my hands on once Aunt Dixie arrived. She had called at the ungodly hour of five a.m. to give me what for and to tell me to be ready by nine a.m. to storm Sheriff Quinn’s office.
“If Billy Jack needs a lawyer, my cousin Tyler over in Louisville can take the case the minute your Aunt Dixie says the word,” Bonita offered when I finally set my coffee on the counter.
I covered a huge yawn and excused myself. PJ turned into a mother hen and came to rub my back. “She’s been up all night worrying, Bonita. We can’t bother her with legal mumbo jumbo right now. Besides, Sheriff Quinn don’t have Billy Jack in custody yet. Not unless they took him in here in the last ten minutes.”
“Wait,” I said, “how do you know whether he has Billy Jack or not?”
Bonita leaned against the counter beside me and tapped her long nails on the glass top. “I may have called in a favor to find out.”
“Deputy Ferguson? When are you going to admit you are in like with him Bonita? I think he likes you too since he’s the one you always call to find the dirt on Sheriff Quinn.”
Her cheeks burned with a pretty pink glow and she shook her head making her curls bounce. I’d give just about anything to trade my straight hair for hers, just for one day. I was distracted watching her hair and she snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“Earth to Jolene, focus on my eyes girl. Deputy Ferguson and I are good friends. You know that. Besides, my mama and daddy have it in their head I’m going to marry that hoodoo man down in ‘Nawlins.”
“But you ain’t,” I said with confidence.
“Oh, so now you know the future, huh?” Bonita said and crossed her arms.
PJ laughed. “You know she’s no seer. Not that kind anyway. I know and I told her you ain’t marrying no man from ‘Nawlins. That’s that. I won’t say who you gonna marry, but he sure ain’t from the dirty south.”
My friend cackled at the look on Bonita’s face. A quick scolding issued from Bonita’s ruby painted lips. “You know dang well we aren’t supposed to use our magic but for the benefit of others.”
PJ stuck out her tongue, the little alley cat in her coming out. “I did it for the benefit of Jolene. So there.”
The two were about to have an all out boxing match when Aunt Dixie strolled through the door pretty as you please. Like she owned the place and me. She ignored Bonita and PJ, who had moved over to my front window with their fussing.
“Flip that sign to closed, Jolene. We have business with the sheriff.”
I looked down at my watch. It was barely 8:30. I began to protest that the sheriff’s office didn’t open until nine. The hands on my Timex started spinning and landed on, you guessed it, 9 on the dot.
“Cute, Aunt Dixie, real cute. Genie won’t be here to cover for me ’til 9. She doesn’t have a key to the front door yet.” I planted my feet and took another gulp of my iced vanilla latte. Thankfully, Ray's little sister Genie was in town for the Mountain Laurel Festival. She was in the running for being crowned queen of the event for Mount Pleasant U. That made Ray as proud as a peacock wearing an extra tail.
Aunt Dixie took the cup from my hands as it left my lips and placed it on the counter. She gave a loud whistle that about burst my eardrums. PJ and Bonita covered their ears and whimpered, their argument brought to a screeching halt.
“That’s enough Aunt Dixie,” I said and she left off with her auditory attack.
“One of these fine ladies can wait here for Genie. Looks like they have nothing better to do than fight like two cats in the dump looking for fish bones, anyway.”
My friends ducked their heads and avoided eye contact with Aunt Dixie. She was our senior after all. And a powerful witch in her own right.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Dixie,” PJ offered, “I can wait here for Genie, but Bonita needs to scoot on over to the courthouse.”
Bonita took PJ’s hand and squeezed it in gratitude for her sacrifice. I held back a belly laugh as I watched my two friends, who had just been fighting it out, make up real quick and jump to obey my Aunt Dixie’s orders.
Showing up early to
the sheriff’s office had the exact effect I’d hoped to avoid. All either of us did was stew over Billy Jack’s predicament. “Aunt Dixie,” I said, hoping to be helpful, “we need to visit the still site where the murder happened after we see the sheriff.”
Ignoring me, she blessed out Sheriff Quinn. “He's about as useless as tits on a boar and you're not much better, Jolene.”
“Wasn’t no good going to come from keeping you up all night when Billy Jack was holed up so good a coon dog couldn’t find him, let alone Sheriff Quinn.” I reasoned with her as best I could.
“It's the principle of the thing! I coulda had him out to Flat Lick by now with your Uncle Joe. The least he could do is help my baby boy hide out from the law.” She sighed and took out her lace handkerchief and gave a long honk of her nose.
My uncle, Joseph Lamar Mack, is a powerful warlock werewolf who chose to mostly ignore his family by living many miles east of Devil's Elbow in the town of Flat Lick. Smartest man I ever knew.
Aunt Dixie alternated between love and hate for her big brother. His choice of homestead came in handy when her baby boy was in trouble, but she hates that he could never get Billy Jack in line as a teenager. That’s when Billy Jack’s werewolf broke through and completely distracted him from developing his warlock talents.
My aunt is really a saint, scout's honor, but when it comes to Billy Jack, it’s like a whole other person shows up to rescue him. A mama bear with a sharp tongue to match the claws.
“How you reckon the ward on still #4 was broken anyway? I expect whoever had a hand in that is the person they ought to be lookin’ for.”
“That's the sixty-four dollar question, Aunt Dixie.” I stood and stretched in the small space that seemed smaller the longer we sat waiting.
We'd both put out our own kind of feelers for Billy Jack without a bit of luck. He must have figured the charges Sheriff Quinn was trying to pin on him weren’t the kind he could wriggle out of even with his mama’s help.
The door banged open startling both of us. I peered at Sheriff Quinn as he walked in. He didn't seem angry. He fumbled with the door and offered a weak apology. “It sticks sometimes.”
He dumped assorted files across his desk and put a pod of coffee in the fancy machine behind him. I bet it didn't taste a bit like the coffee Granny Mack made on her wood-burning stove. You couldn't use them pods in your garden either like you could with coffee grounds.
When he turned with the coffee mug to his lips, he scowled and set it down on his desk. “Would y’all care for a cup of joe?”
Aunt Dixie rose and placed her considerable pocketbook on his desk nearly upsetting his coffee mug. “Sheriff,” she began, her manner sweet as honey, “I’ve come with Jolene to find out what terrible thing has happened. You simply cannot believe my boy had a hand in any murder.”
I had to hand it to Aunt Dixie, that performance, complete with clutched pearls, was a sight to behold. If the sheriff was smart, and don’t hurt yourself with that stretch of imagination, he'd play nice and make my aunt believe he didn’t think her boy was a cold-blooded killer. It was the only way he'd get any peace today.
“Now Mizz Dixie,” the sheriff began, taking his seat with his mug rescued from its dangerous proximity to my aunt's pocketbook, “We have to question all suspects with info about the victim and your boy is the only one who ain’t come in after contact with my deputy yesterday morning. Naturally, the next time we see him, we'll pick him up. You know where he is this mornin’? I'd rather not send Deputy Carter out to Flat Lick if I don't have to.”
“I haven't seen him sheriff, but I can vouch for him. He wouldn't hurt a fly. You best be looking for the real killer instead. Granny Mack don't hold with her family being dragged in here every time you need a patsy.”
Aunt Dixie was right about Granny Mack. There was no love lost between her and the sheriff. But it wasn't just because of Billy Jack.
Sheriff Quinn had taken sides with Maybelle Hunt last year against my granny. The thing that was most difficult in Devil's Elbow was that magical folks, like my family, weren't understood by all the regular folk. Just the ones who believed in and respected our powers. Sheriff Quinn fell between the two camps. He grudgingly respected us, but there were serious trust issues.
Maybelle had come up with some ancient map that she said proved Granny Mack had magicked the current map in order to lay claim to an orchard between their two properties. Come to find out, Maybelle's map was of some land in Jeff County where her people were from. It had nothing to do with Granny Mack’s land here in Devil’s Elbow.
Maybelle had her son cut down ten of Granny Mack's apple trees before the mistaken map had been revealed to anyone. Sheriff Quinn made it worse by threatening to call in the National Guard to keep Granny from leveling Devil's Elbow.
She wouldn't have destroyed our town, but her command of the ominous black clouds that leaked lightning strikes all around Maybelle's house probably didn't help matters.
The sheriff stood and made his way back to the door. This was how his meetings with my aunt always ended, neither side satisfied. The door had extra stick to it and I gave my aunt a little side eye action. Sure enough, her lips moved silently as she cast an irritation hex she loved to use on the sheriff.
He pulled the handle until beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. He looked warily from my aunt to me figuring one of us was having fun at his expense.
I grabbed Aunt Dixie's pocketbook and broke her concentration. Sheriff Quinn fell back and stumbled as the door gave way. Okay, so maybe he had good reason to mistrust all the Bakers, Durhams, and Macks in Devil's Elbow.
“You best be ready to apologize Sheriff Quinn, though I doubt it'll do you any good with my family. You might think about someone like Deputy Carter becoming sheriff. Yours is not a position you'll hold for life. Maybe not even another term.” Aunt Dixie brushed past him as she spoke. The Sheriff looked like he’d been rode hard and put up wet. He mopped his forehead with his sleeve and I heard his sigh of relief when I walked by him.
His door closed quickly behind us. Aunt Dixie dug in her purse and pulled out the wand she used when big spells were called for. I held up both hands to keep her from turning the sheriff into a toad. “Now listen, put that away and let's get out of here and find Billy Jack. We know he ain't killed nobody, but running makes him look guilty as a thief in a thicket.”
Thankfully, she listened. Good timing too as Deputy Carter approached the sheriff's door. He’d been down to Milletville the past month doing some police training. I knew this because Aunt Dixie had tried to get me to go down there on some pretense in the hopes I might run into him.
“Deputy,” my aunt called after him, “should we give you a call if Billy Jack turns up? I'd rather he spoke to you than Sheriff Quinn since he believes my boy to be guilty.”
Aunt Dixie had a soft spot for the deputy. He was her first husband's nephew. There was also the hope she might make a match between us. Deputy Carter was handsome, intelligent, and magickal like us. Most importantly to my aunt, he was also still in the land of the living, unlike Ray Davis.
“Aunt Dixie, how nice to see you this morning. And Jolene, you're looking like you'd rather be anywhere else.”
“She's just so worried about Billy Jack, they are more like siblings than cousins, you know. Why don't the two of you join me for a coffee over at Kudzu’s? I bet we can figure out where Billy Jack went last night.”
Aunt Dixie didn't fool me with her coffee routine for a minute. “I wanted to go out and pick berries before the sun got too high, remember?”
Picking berries was code for let’s visit the murder scene. We were both supposed to go out there after the meeting with Sheriff Quinn.
“Surely it can wait till evening, Jolene! Deputy Carter could be such a help to us in this time of trouble.”
I didn't agree with her at all. Even though the deputy was magick like us, there was no guarantee he would help Billy Jack. His first loyalty was to his badge.
That was the way for magick folk who worked for regular folk. No powers were to be used in their professional lives. It made perfect sense, but it also put walls up in the magickal community.
The deputy took my aunt's hand and thanked her for the invitation. “Aunt Dixie, I can't sit for coffee with you just this minute, but I'll take a rain check.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I needed today was a matchmaking session with my aunt and her dead husband's nephew who happened to be on the wrong team.
My old jeep bounced crazily in the ruts that used to be a good dirt road. Aunt Dixie held on for dear life complaining loudly the whole way. “Jolene, I swear! Who taught you to drive? Must have been your daddy. He couldn't see any better than a blind mole.”
“My driving is just fine, thank you. And Daddy saw perfectly, this side and t' other.” I wanted to say that she was just jealous, but there was no sense in poking the bear. I knew my Daddy had been a powerful warlock and that was all that mattered. Sassing Aunt Dixie would get me nowhere fast.
I spied the old, gnarled oak tree that marked the location of Billy Jack’s fourth still. Pulling a hard left, I maneuvered the jeep off the road and down into a grassy depression where we couldn't be seen from the road. A bit of glamor would help camouflage us even more.
I stepped out of the jeep and was hit with a wave of prickly premonition. “If there's one thing I know like the back of my hand, it’s these mountains. Something ain't right. Can you feel it?”
Aunt Dixie closed her eyes and called on the sight. A witch with the sight saw a whole host of things but she had to sort them like a jigsaw puzzle.
“There's a great deal wrong, Jolene. Someone wants Billy Jack dead. And they won't care if they have to take you out with him.” Aunt Dixie was trembling when she finished speaking.
I held her hand and thought of Billy Jack. He was fine as frog hair wherever he happened to be holed up.
“Let's get this done and over with. I ain't scared Aunt Dixie, but I ain't dumb either. Whatever went wrong at this still is the work of someone more powerful than me. We shoulda’ brought Granny Mack with us.”
