by Paula Lester
Sarah shook her head without looking away from the handsome man in front of her. “Would you mind if I took a selfie with you? I know it’s cliché, but . . .”
“Not at all.” Jordan held his arm out so Sarah could cuddle in close. Paige rolled her eyes as they smiled up into the phone that Jordan held up since he had longer arms.
When Sarah checked the picture on her phone, she actually did bounce up and down a little. And she squealed. Paige sighed. How could someone be so excited about a photo? Then she remembered her own reaction to her gorgeous assistant’s bare chest and had to grudgingly admit she could relate to her sister-in-law’s excitement.
But Sarah wasn’t done yet. “Just one more thing. Will you sign my apron?”
Jordan chuckled, but he nodded good-naturedly, and Sarah whipped out a Sharpie from her apron’s pocket and held the bottom of the smock away from herself so he could get to it. He signed his name right in the center, with big flourishes, and then handed the pen back to her.
“Thank you. The girls at the shop are going to be jealous. It’s so cool that you’re here, working in our tiny little town.” She paused for a minute, her eyebrows gathering together a bit. “Why are you in Comfort Cove, by the way?”
“It’s nice here. The salt in the air is great for my skin.” Jordan turned back toward the boxes and pulled more books out.
Paige narrowed her eyes. He hadn’t answered the question.
But Sarah was heading for the door, so Paige didn’t have time to think about it more. She wanted to ask her brother’s wife a question, so she moved quickly to intercept her. She touched Sarah’s arm to hold her in place and glanced back to make sure Jordan wasn’t listening. He was lifting Casper out of the half-filled box of books they were working on emptying. Silly cat always liked to jump in boxes.
Keeping her voice low, Paige asked Sarah, “Are you still coming to the meeting tonight at the bakery?”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Sarah glanced one last time at Jordan. “You lucky girl.”
“See you tonight.” Paige let go of Sarah, who headed out the door, holding it open for a woman who was coming in at the same instant.
The newcomer had bright red hair in ringlets that bounced off her shoulders when she moved. She carried a professional-looking camera and her eyes instantly homed in on Paige. She stuck her hand out and spoke with a crisp, business-like tone. “Hello! I’m Jane from Net News.” She released Paige’s hand and brought the camera up, snapping pictures of the inside of the shop in rapid succession.
“Um. How can I help you?” Paige felt mildly uncomfortable with the idea of a reporter coming in and getting shots of the bookshop, but she figured it probably had to do with the recent big drug ring sting that had sort of involved Beachside Books. Besides, like they said, any publicity was good publicity.
“Oh, here’s the man I’m looking for.” Jane crossed the room to Jordan, taking pictures the whole way. She lowered the camera just long enough to hold out her hand for him to shake and repeat her introduction. Then she reached in the pocket of her lightweight jacket and pulled out a credit card-sized device, which she pressed and held toward the actor. “Our office got a tip that you arrived in Comfort Cove a week ago. How is that possible? Do you have a backroom deal worked out with Oz Wilder?”
Jordan looked even more bewildered than usual. “I . . . Who?”
She pushed the recorder closer to him. “Oz Wilder, the famous director. Did you make a deal with him to win the Serial Slasher Treasure Hunt?”
“Serial Slasher . . . what?” Jordan shook his head like a bear, as though Jane’s words might make more sense to him if he could shake the cobwebs loose from his mind.
The reporter huffed, clearly irritated. “So, no comment then? You don’t care to explain how it is that you were in Comfort Cove, Texas, before the rest of the world even got that clue?”
Jane leaned forward, her eyes laser-focused on Jordan’s befuddled face. Paige decided she couldn’t just stand there and watch the train wreck anymore. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure about Jordan Rake, for now, anyway, he was her employee . . . and her only hope to improve her financial situation. Stepping forward, she stood so her right shoulder was just in front of Jordan’s, between him and the pushy reporter. “I’m Paige Murphy, owner of Beachside Books,” she said firmly, stressing the word owner. “This is my employee. Can you please explain what you’re talking about? What clue?”
Jane sighed, pushed the off button on the recorder, and slipped it back in her pocket. She turned away, looking around the shop again, and even stopping to take a picture of Casper as she answered. “The big-shot horror film director Oz Wilder has been running a contest for a few months. He posts three clues a week on Twitter that are supposed to help people find a treasure he says is hidden somewhere in the US. Inside is twenty-five thousand dollars in cash and a contract for the lead role in his next big film. Anyone can win—man, woman, or child—and the clues have been getting more specific as time has gone on with no one finding the box.”
Paige’s eyebrows flew up. She didn’t want to act in a horror movie. She hated scary books and shows. But twenty-five thousand dollars was a big cash prize, and she could definitely use that amount of money to turn Beachside Books around.
Jane continued wandering around the shop, and she kept talking. “The most recent tweets have mentioned Texas and even suggested a beach town. The very last one, posted only yesterday evening, was a series of numbers that many believe make up part of a GPS coordinate. The numbers match some of those in Comfort Cove’s location.” Jane finally stopped moving and directed her gaze back toward Paige and Jordan. “Flocks of people are descending on this town as we speak. They’re all going to be hunting for the treasure.” She looked directly at Jordan, and her eyes seemed like they might bore through and read his mind. “So how did you know to come here early? Before those latest tweets?”
Jordan shrugged. “I didn’t know anything about that,” he said, turning back to the box of books he’d been working on. “I don’t do slasher films.”
Jane pulled a business card out of her pocket and crossed to hand it to Paige. “If your employee changes his mind and decides he wants to talk, have him call me,” she said as though Jordan weren’t standing right there.
Paige watched the reporter leave the shop and then glanced at Jordan. Was he telling the truth about why he was in Comfort Cove? Or was he just using her like she was using him?
Chapter 3
Paige spent the rest of the day keeping an eye on Jordan. He didn’t do anything else particularly interesting. He kept his shirt on and sold a lot of books. She was glad he was doing his job but a little disappointed his abs were covered.
Even though it was her best day of sales ever, Paige had a bone to pick with Casper. After she locked up for the day, she fed the furry feline while lecturing him. “You know, I don’t really appreciate how you treated me today.” She put a hand on her hip and glared at the cat while he ignored her and munched on kibble. “I know Jordan’s gorgeous and everything, but what do you care about that? I mean, really. You’re a cat. Don’t you only care about food, mice, and sleep?” Casper glanced up at her but kept chewing at an unhurried pace. “Okay, fine. If you want to have a crush on Jordan, go ahead, but then don’t expect me to drop everything to help you the next time you think you have fleas.”
She crossed to the stairs and took them up to her small attic apartment. She was slowly adding homey touches to the place, like the painting of a beach at sunset she’d found at a thrift store down the block and hung over her bed. But she still hoped to rent a house soon.
She checked the clock—she only had about twenty minutes to make and eat dinner, so she pulled out some leftover spaghetti from the night before and stuck it in the tiny microwave.
After she’d finished eating and rinsed off her dishes, Paige grabbed a leather-bound book from the table at the head of her twin-sized bed and headed
back downstairs.
As her foot hit the landing at the bottom of the staircase, she heard voices from the storeroom and recognized them as belonging to Lucy and Sarah. She’d asked them to come in the back door for their scheduled meeting.
Paige could hear Sarah talking. “He was so friendly. Look! He signed my smock. The other ladies at the beauty shop just about died when they saw it. They wanted to run right over here and meet him themselves, but we were just too busy.”
Lucy’s voice floated to Paige’s ears. “Just Baked was hopping all day long too. So many out-of-towners. And they all looked like they just came out of your shop, dear. All perfectly coiffed and dressed like movie stars. Oh, hello, Paige.”
“Hi, ladies. Come on in. Did I hear you talking about all the visitors swarming into Comfort Cove today?”
“Who are all those people?” Lucy wondered.
Quickly, Paige told the two women what she’d learned when Jane from Net News had come by to interview Jordan. Her friends appeared a little bit shocked and a lot excited. If Paige was being honest with herself, those were pretty much the exact same emotions she was having about it. When she’d returned to Comfort Cove, Paige had felt a bit of loss. Returning to the slow, small town she’d grown up in hadn’t been in her plans after she’d spent time in a gorgeous Italian city writing, enjoying the scenery, and being surrounded by worldly people. Knowing there was an influx of interesting, possibly even famous or semi-famous people heading into Comfort Cove to shake things up gave her a thrill of excitement. It was something extra interesting to pay attention to and watch evolve.
Sarah held up her phone to Paige. “I don’t care why he’s here. Look at this.” A video played showing a sweaty, dirty, completely adorable Jordan rescuing a beagle from a burning house. Paige had to admit—it was compelling and really pulled the heartstrings. She kind of wanted to hug the dog and wash Jordan’s face off tenderly with cool water.
She handed the phone back to Sarah. “Okay, that was definitely pretty awesome.”
“See?” Sarah shrieked. She threw her head back and held the phone to her chest. “He’s dreamy.”
“Does my brother know you have a crush on an internet heartthrob?”
Sarah glared at her. “I do not! Besides, Scott has his own crushes, so don’t you worry about it. We’re married, not dead.”
Paige laughed. “Okay, okay. You can have a crush on him.”
“Well, we should get started,” Lucy said and cleared her throat. Once they were settled, she clapped her hands, a huge, sunny smile on her face. “I’d like to call to order the first meeting of the newly revived Comfort Cove Coven.” She did a happy dance in her seat, and her curls bounced around her face.
Sarah and Paige clapped, both smiling themselves. It was hard not to be excited when Lucy was so obviously tickled pink by the situation.
“I was thinking we could start out by telling one another about our powers and how we first realized we were special. Sarah, would you like to go first, dear?”
“Sure. I have dreams that give me glimpses of the future, but it has to be intentional.”
“You can foresee the future?” Paige exclaimed. “Since when?”
“Since I was in my teens, I guess. It was an accident when I figured it out. I was assigned to do a science project with a few classmates, and we ran into a problem right off the bat. Half the group wanted to do a lava project and the others wanted to do one on electricity. I was the tie breaker, but when they asked me what I thought, I froze and couldn’t choose. So I said, ‘Let me sleep on it’ to get some time and space. That night, I had a dream that we did the electricity project, everyone loved it, and we got an A. The next day, I told the other kids that’s what I wanted to do. I still didn’t realize I’d had an actual premonition until we presented our project and it went exactly as I’d dreamed it would. Talk about some serious déjà vu.”
“What a cool gift,” Paige said.
Sarah grinned. “I tried to convince myself that first dream was a coincidence. But then, a week or so later, two guys asked me to a school dance. I told them both I’d let them know the next day. I asked them to let me sleep on it. That night, I dreamed of going with the first guy who asked me, having a wonderful time, and becoming boyfriend and girlfriend afterward.” She paused and grinned at Paige. “Scott was very pleased when I accepted his invitation the next day.”
Paige smiled broadly and then raised her eyebrows. “Does he know you’re a witch?”
“No, and I don’t want him to,” she said, a little sternly. Then she dipped her head. “Sorry. I just don’t want Scott to worry even more than he already does. I use my dreams to give him little nudges in the right direction with his cases sometimes, and I don’t want him to know that, either. And, of course, it doesn’t always work. Sometimes I try to have a dream but just wake up in the morning with a puddle of drool on my pillowcase and no new information.”
Paige nodded. “I get it. I’ve never told Scott about me, either.”
“So, how long have you known?” Lucy asked.
“Aunt Nora told me after Mom and Dad died when I was having a lot of trouble with friends at school and stuff. I was just enough different from the other kids that she seemed to notice something was off about me. But Aunt Nora said I was special like her and it was okay.”
“What are your talents, dear?” Lucy asked gently, studying Paige’s face.
“Um, let’s see. I have flashes of past events, usually when I’m standing in the spot they happened or holding an object that was involved. They’re not usually things that happened to me. Oh, and I can see auras sometimes. I didn’t even realize that was part of it until I mentioned it to Aunt Nora. I thought people just gave off color normally. She explained that most people can’t see that.”
The other two women chuckled and nodded. It seemed like being a witch came with certain shared circumstances.
Paige sighed. It felt good to finally have people she could talk to about her gifts who wouldn’t think she was psycho. “I see red for anger and green for jealousy the clearest. Also, I think animals can really understand me when I talk to them. I mean, I know all pets understand some words their owners say, but it really seems like they understand every word I say. Like when I tell the squirrels to stay out of the bird feeders and I’ll give them their own corn. They actually do it. It’s kind of a bummer I can’t hear them back.”
“It seems like you share some of your aunt’s powers,” Lucy said and nodded. “My specialty is potions. I am talented at brewing up cauldrons full of good luck, love, or attitude adjustment. But I only use my potions for good things like that, you know. And to help my flowerbeds flourish. The potions wear off, so if I want continuous effects, I have to keep renewing them.”
“What types of things are in your potions?” Sarah’s voice held a note of suspicion, and Paige wondered what her angle was.
“Oh, frog legs, grasshoppers, sage, black pepper . . . that sort of thing.”
“Lucy! I can’t believe you use animal products in your potions.” Sarah’s eyes were wide as her inner-vegan came roaring out. “Poor little things. It’s not fair for them to die for your good luck and happy flowers.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I can try to come up with substitutes.”
Sarah nodded so hard Paige thought she might injure her neck.
Lucy glanced at Paige. “You probably remember me sharing this with you, dear. I can tell when someone is lying. I smell it, really. I’m a Truth Sniffer. Come from a long line of them.” She grinned, obviously pleased with herself.
“That’s pretty cool,” Sarah admitted. “You know, I’ve been trying to get my flowers and vegetables going better. Can you teach me to make a potion for them?”
“Of course I can.” Lucy beamed. “That’s exactly what I want this coven to do—use our magic to help each other with whatever comes up. And, of course, I’d love for us to use all our other assets too. We’re a special sisterhood, you know. We have
a strong bond.”
Lucy reached out a hand to each of the other ladies, squeezing their fingers, and Sarah reached for Paige’s other hand to complete the circle. As soon as they were all touching, Paige felt a small zip, almost like a static shock, run up one arm, through her torso, and out the other arm. Her eyes widened, and she stared into identical looks on the other two women’s faces.
“Well, well,” Lucy muttered. “How interesting.” She withdrew her hands and stood. “We’ll go over to the kitchen after a bit and make that potion. First, I want to meet Captain McDougall.”
“I still can’t believe there’s really a pirate ghost living in a haunted logbook at Beachside Books.” Sarah shook her head. “But, then again, there’s a minor celebrity working for you and we just renewed a coven of witches, so I guess I should get used to odd stuff.”
“Is that the book?” Lucy asked, pointing toward the crook of Paige’s arm.
She nodded and held it up so the others could see the ship embossed on the aged leather of the logbook. “Yep. This is the captain’s home.” She realized Lucy had placed something on the counter. “Is that a pie?”
“Yes! I made a nice apple pie for the pirate. Do you think he likes apple? I have a peach one back at the bakery if you think he’d like that better.” She stepped away, in the direction of the back door. “Maybe I’ll just go get the peach too, and the captain can choose.”
Paige chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t bother. He doesn’t eat.”
Lucy’s eyebrows shot up into the black curls that fell over her forehead, pushed down and flattened by the hairnet she wore all day. “He doesn’t? Huh. Well, that’s too bad.”
“Come on over here.” Paige crossed to the reading nook near the back of the store and set the book on the small round table there. She turned to the others. “When I open it, there will be a horrible dead fish smell and a lot of crazy green, clammy-feeling mist. I suggest you kind of stand back and give them both time to disperse before you get too close.”
