Southern Magic Thanksgiving

by Amy Boyles

  “Nah. I love being outside this time of year.”

  We reached Familiar Place a few minutes later. I unlocked the door with the golden key my Uncle Donovan had left me and pushed the handle. I worked quickly, starting in the back and snapping off the lights one by one.

  The kittens and puppies tried to protest.

  “Hey, stay awhile!”

  “Don’t turn off that light! We want to party!”

  But I ignored them. I flipped the last switch and greeted Mattie on the doorstep. “All done.”

  I locked the door and turned to head back home when something snagged my attention. I bent over, peering across the street. I’m pretty sure I looked like a peeping Pepper. Good thing the rest of town was busy at the murder scene.

  “What is it, sugar bear?” Mattie said.

  “The lights are on at the Sweet Witch.”

  The cat glanced over. “They sure are. Is that someone walking around in there?”

  I shot Mattie a conspiratorial look. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That the murderer is in that there shop right now stealing whatever it was they didn’t get off Lori Lou’s body? Yep.”

  I scooped Mattie into my arms. “Let’s go around back.”

  I walked the long sidewalk, keeping an eye on the shop the entire time. Thoughts raced through my head.

  Please don’t let it be Carmen in there.

  There was no way my cousin would kill someone, but she had pitched a near hissy-going-on-conniption fit at the park. Worse, the entire town witnessed it. Witnessed my cool cousin about to pull Lori Lou’s hair straight from her Aqua Netted roots.

  I was so full of angst my stomach knotted. I could feel my insides turning to water and knew my intestines would be cramping anytime soon. I needed to get that crap under control.

  A good Southern gal always has her cool down pat. I needed to be cool, even if it meant getting ready to karate chop a murderer.

  Ugh. Too bad I didn’t know how to karate chop. Maybe I could flail my arms around and look fierce.

  Sure. That would work.

  Probably not.

  I reached the back door, but not before tripping over a pile of black trash bags. “What in the world? I almost broke my neck on these.” For good measure I kicked them to the side and settled Mattie on the ground. The cat stretched and pawed the knob. “I got a plan.”

  “Great,” I whispered. “What is it?”

  “I’ll run in, jump on whoever’s in there and scratch their eyes out.”

  I cringed. It was definitely better than my plan and also more gruesome. “Okay, maybe we tone it down. Why don’t you run and jump on their head to blind them. Meanwhile I’ll come in from behind with a karate chop to the kidney. That way we can immobilize whoever it is.”

  Mattie extended her claws on the door. “Sounds good. Open this baby.”

  I glanced up and noticed a padlock on the outside had been broken clean in two. My stomach knotted. Whoever was inside had definitely done so using deviant methods.

  “Be careful,” I warned Mattie.

  “Will do, sugar bear.”

  My fingers shook as I reached for the knob. This was one of those times that I wished Axel was with me.

  Can it, Pepper. The man’s not coming back. You just need to tighten your panties and get the heck over it. Stop being a whiny baby.

  I turned the knob. It gave with ease. I cracked the door, and Mattie scampered it, meowing and spitting.

  Crap. If I’d have known it was all-out war, I would’ve called Betty for some gear.

  I followed quickly, but Mattie hightailed it faster than I could keep up. Next thing I knew, she was hissing, someone else was yelling and I was standing in the kitchen of the Sweet Witch.

  “I got him,” Mattie screeched.

  I ran from the kitchen to the display room and saw Mattie sitting atop a clearly confused Collinsworth.

  “What in the world? Why are you on my head?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the picture of a cat, paws clapped around the bunny’s eyes. With a cat and bunny, I was wondering if a dish was going to run away with a spoon.

  Mattie jumped down. Collinsworth straightened his waistcoat and cleared his throat. “Might I ask what in God’s name are you doing breaking and entering this store?”

  “I might ask you the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “The padlock was broken and here you are. Aren’t you supposed to be Lori Lou’s helper animal? Yet you’re scavenging around with only one light on. It looks very suspicious.”

  Tears filled Collinsworth’s eyes. “I know about Lori Lou. I was at the turkey hunt. We got separated and then, then—” He burst into tears.

  “She got herself murdered,” Mattie finished for him.

  “Yes.” Collinsworth rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I came back to get something of hers. Something I could remember her by.” He lifted a silk handkerchief. “It was her favorite. Please. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I loved Lori Lou. I want the police to find her killer.”

  I smirked, still undecided about whether or not I believed him. But then the bunny glanced up at me with eyes full of tears and my heart melted—even if he did have a horribly fake British accent.

  “Why didn’t you wait until Becky Ray opened tomorrow?” I said.

  “Because I didn’t know if Becky would open. Besides, Becky hates me. Detests me. She thinks I’m too smart for my own waistcoat.”

  “She’s probably right,” Mattie said. She yawned and glanced at me. “Come on, Pepper. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” he said, hopping forward. “I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t return to my house with Lori Lou. What if the murderer shows up and kills me, too?”

  I nibbled the inside of my lip. “I don’t know. We have a pretty full house.”

  I know it was Thanksgiving, but I mean, this rabbit had a place to go, I was pretty sure. Surely Becky Ray didn’t hate him. He was probably being dramatic, playing a sympathy card for some reason.

  Collinsworth hopped in front of me, blocking my path. “Please. You must help me.”

  “Why?” I said.

  Don’t ask me why I didn’t feel the need to help him. Maybe it was because I’d already offered Becky Ray to come to the house. Maybe it was because I didn’t buy his story that Becky Ray didn’t like him. Why would she have allowed a rabbit in the store if she didn’t like him? Made no sense to me.

  But all my doubts vanished when Collinsworth stepped forward and said, “Please. You must help me. My life is in danger.”

  SIX

  Mattie gave me a good once-over. “Whatever you want to do. I’m leaving this decision up to you, Pepper.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Okay, rabbit. Why is your life in danger?”

  He hopped forward. His little fat rabbit legs quivered. “Don’t you see? Whoever killed Lori Lou may kill me next.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. I’m sure they’ll want to kill me. I’m a poor, defenseless bunny rabbit. I wouldn’t survive out there in the cold, harsh world by myself. Look at me? I’m one shot away from rabbit stew.”

  Mattie licked her mouth. “Sounds yummy.”

  I shot her a dark look. She rolled her green eyes but said nothing. It was Thanksgiving and I was in the spirit of giving, after all. If I couldn’t offer a defenseless rabbit who probably dropped turds after every step a place to sleep for one night, then I was a harsh, evil person.

  I almost laughed maniacally to prove it. Instead I deflated. My shoulders slouched as I exhaled a deep shot of air.

  “Okay, rabbit. You can stay with us tonight. But you’ve got to find a place to live.”

  “Thank you.” He shuffled back. “Now let me grab my hat and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Hat?” Mattie said.

  I gently pressed her side, nudging the cat to the rear of the building. Collinsworth reappeared with his hat. It was
a straw barber-shop-quartet style getup. He looked completely ridiculous.

  “Okay, Benjamin Bunny,” I said, referencing a character from the Peter Rabbit books.

  “I’m Collinsworth the Rabbit.”

  “So you keep telling me.” I shut the back door and glanced at the broken lock. “You don’t have a key?”

  “No. I used an old magic trick to get in.”

  “What sort of magic trick?”

  He explained as we walked home. “I used to be a magician’s rabbit, and one of the tricks he used to perform was the old sawing-a-person-in-half routine. He had a magic saw. The thing wouldn’t cut flesh, but it would slice up metal easily. I have the saw, and I can jump pretty high.”

  “Where’s it now?”

  “Oh, I left it behind some crates. I didn’t think anyone would need it.”

  Right. No one would need or want a saw that broke through metal but didn’t injure flesh. Note to self: return to pick up said incredibly dangerous saw in the near future.

  Right when I was thinking that, Mattie shot me a look that said she was thinking the same thing. Collinsworth half hopped, half walked beside us.

  A spark of tenderness lit inside me at seeing the little furry guy ambling along.

  “Don’t worry, Collinsworth,” I said, “we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Mattie tapped me with her tail. “We will?”

  “Sure we will. But right now let’s go enjoy a quiet Thanksgiving Eve at home. Maybe by the time we arrive, Betty will have settled down in her giant muumuu with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands.”

  No deal.

  When we reached the house, Betty was strolling about the lawn, weaving through a throng of furniture that should’ve been inside but was now sitting outside on yellowing November fescue.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Cleaning house,” Betty said. She stared at the pile of things—an end table, a wicker chair, some kitchen towels and a nightstand. She nodded in approval and clapped her hands. A sign appeared, posted into the grass.

  “Free?” I said, unsure what was going on. “You’re giving these things away?”

  Betty snorted. “Kid, it’s the season for giving and I’m giving.”

  “It’s the season of Thanksgiving. The season of giving thanks, not doling out Christmas presents like an STD on steroids.”

  Betty glared at me. Amelia appeared on the porch. “What in the world?”

  My cousin raced down the steps and yanked an end table from its perch. “This is mine. Mine. It goes in my room. What’s it doing out here?”

  “It’s causing clutter,” Betty said. “I’m giving it away.”

  Amelia dragged it toward the house. “No, you’re not. I’m keeping this.”

  Betty clenched her teeth. Uh-oh. This was going to be a fight. Like a serious witchy battle on the night before a holiday.

  “You can have something of mine,” I said. “Don’t take her table. Take something from my room.”

  Betty pulled her pipe from her pocket and shoved it in her mouth. She didn’t bother packing it or even lighting it. The thing was already smoking by the time it hit her teeth.

  I stared at her clothes. “Was that lit inside your pocket this whole time?”

  “What’s it to you?” She thumbed toward the rabbit. “Who’s this?”

  I cleared my throat. Clearly first impressions had been tossed out the window. “This is Collinsworth. He belonged to Lori Lou. He’s afraid someone may want to harm him.”

  “Oh, Lori was harboring secrets, was she?” Betty said.

  “Um, no. She was just very popular,” Collinsworth said.

  Betty’s eyebrows ratcheted up a notch. “So popular she stole my niece’s pumpkin pie recipe?”

  Collinsworth palmed his hat nervously. “I don’t know anything about recipe stealing. All I know is that she made people happy.” He glanced around. “Can we go inside? It’s very cold out here.”

  I steered him by the shoulder toward the door. Jenny the guard-vine uncoiled and sniffed Collinsworth from head to cottontail.

  Once that was complete, we scooted inside. Betty came with us but stopped and stared at the furniture. Knowing she was trying to figure out what else to set outside in her weirdly strange new Thanksgiving tradition, I glanced around the room for a distraction.

  “Whoa. Is that the pie from the Sweet Witch?”

  An open box displaying a pecan pie sat atop the dining table. The box was slightly rumpled and the pie itself looked like it had fallen upside down but had been righted. On one side all the pecans were pushed up against the edge while the other side was empty.

  The chocolate bat was half eaten.

  I crossed to it. “Is that? Is that the pie we threw in the trash?”

  Betty’s lower lip trembled. “Maybe.”

  Vomit edged up the back of my throat. I seriously wanted to hurl. “Why is it out of the trash and sitting on the table?”

  “I got hungry,” Betty said glumly. “Stress makes me eat.”

  “What stress?”

  She threw up her hands. “The fiasco at the park. My Thanksgiving Turkey Hunt was ruined by that woman who hid pies and then up and died right there. This town’s had enough problems lately without some hussy getting murdered right before the holiday.”

  “First of all—Collinsworth,” I said, pointing to him.

  Betty rolled her eyes and spat out a not-so-believable, “Sorry. Lori Lou wasn’t a hussy. At least not that I was aware of.”

  “Secondly,” I said, “that pie was in the trash. That’s disgusting. You’ll probably get worms and have to go to the vet.”

  “Watch it,” Mattie said.

  “No offense. There’s nothing wrong with vets, but that’s gross.”

  “Mind your own business,” Betty said. “I’ve had a rough day. If I want to eat good trash, then I’ll eat it.”

  “Okay then. Well, before you decide to put any more things outside, I’m going upstairs to acquaint Collinsworth with Hugo.”

  “Who, may I ask, is Hugo?” the rabbit said as we climbed the stairs.

  “My pet dragon.”

  He stopped. “P-p-pet d-d-dragon?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” I glanced at the rabbit. His knees were shaking something fierce. “Don’t worry. He won’t eat you.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “At least I don’t think so.”

  When I opened the door, Hugo greeted me with a thump of his tail. He uncoiled from his spot on the floor and trotted over to greet me. His tongue lolled to one side as I gave him a good pat.

  “Hugo, meet Collinsworth the Rabbit.”

  Hugo cocked his head. The dragon, who was about the size of a hope chest, lumbered over to the rabbit and gave a good sniff.

  Collinsworth squeaked. Hugo playfully nipped his head, and the rabbit almost fainted.

  “Hugo, he’s not food. He’s here as our guest.” I shucked off my shoes and slumped to the bed. “Listen, y’all, settle down. I’ll go see what’s for dinner. I’ll be back in a bit.” I pointed a finger at them. “Nobody eats anybody else. Mattie, you’re in charge.”

  “Aye, aye, sugar.” She bounded to the window seat and curled up. I checked my phone before letting it fall to the quilt.

  “No calls?” Mattie said.

  “None.” My face crumpled. “I don’t even know why I bother looking.”

  “He’ll call one day, Pepper. He will. I know that man loves you.”

  I scoffed. “He’s got a hysterical way of showing it. Insane, even.”

  “He’s just scared.”

  “Are we discussing a man of the male persuasion?” Collinsworth said.

  “Was the fact that we used the word ‘he’ a dead giveaway?” Mattie said.

  “Be nice,” I warned. “Yes, we’re talking about a man.”

  Collinsworth jumped on my bed. I grimaced. I really, really hoped he didn’t squirt turds on it.

  He dropped his hat on my
pillow. “I might be of some assistance.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Listen, I don’t think sending you as a candy gram to Axel will make him come back.”

  Collinsworth shrugged. “You never know. Still, if you change your mind, let me know.”

  I slipped downstairs to see what Betty had made for supper.

  “All we’re having is turnip greens and cornbread,” she said before I could ask. “The real meal is tomorrow.”

  I slumped to the table. Amelia and Cordelia were already seated. Cordelia flashed me a bright smile.

  “You look so pretty tonight, Pepper.”

  I did a double take. Was she on drugs? I leaned over until my reflection greeted me from a wall mirror. The dark circles tattooed under my eyes didn’t look to be going anywhere, and my hair hung limply around my face. It was in serious need of a washing.

  “Are you okay?” I said to Cordelia.

  “I’m great. Fantastic,” she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.

  Amelia shook her head and widened her eyes as if to say, Cordelia has lost her cotton-pickin’ mind.

  Betty joined us at the table. She pulled back her chair and mumbled, “You think that’s enough stuff outside?”

  “Yes,” Amelia and I said at once.

  Cordelia’s phone chimed. She picked it from the table and thumbed the Accept button.

  “Hey,” she said in a smoky voice. Long pause. “Are you sure? You have to? But it’s Thanksgiving.” Another pause. “I just don’t believe that. Okay. I understand.”

  She hung up.

  “What is it?” I said.

  Tears filled Cordelia’s eyes. She bit her bottom lip. “That was Garrick. He’s made an arrest in the Lori Lou case.”

  “Who?” I said, praying my cousin wasn’t going to say the name I was afraid she would.

  “Carmen. He’s arrested Carmen. Said the evidence is overwhelming.”

  The four of us exchanged a long look. Betty smacked her lips. “Think she’ll need a lamp in jail? I’ve got one I can give her.”

  I smacked my forehead. “Sure you don’t just want to drop off the entire house at the jail?”

  Betty jabbed the air with her fork. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Amelia grabbed my arm. “Pepper, we’ve got to help Carmen. She’s innocent. We all know that.”