Southern Magic Thanksgiving

by Amy Boyles

  “Well, girls,” Betty said, adjusting her glasses, “looks like we’re in for one busy Thanksgiving.”

  “How’s that?” I said.

  “First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going to break your cousin out of jail.”

  SEVEN

  We didn’t wake up and break Carmen out of jail. Betty had only been joking, though I wouldn’t have put it past Amelia and Cordelia because they were pretty upset.

  First thing the next morning, Betty, Amelia, Cordelia, Collinsworth and myself did go to the station to visit Carmen. Betty took a hummingbird cake. I was pretty sure that my grandmother had considered baking a nail file in it.

  Garrick checked. “There isn’t a file in that cake, is there?”

  Betty pounded her fists to her hips. “No, and if you want to taste it, you can. Happy Thanksgiving to you.”

  Garrick scraped his fingers down his face. “Carmen’s over here.”

  He escorted us to the cell where Carmen sat on a thin cot. She saw us and raced to the bars.

  “My lawyer’s coming later today.”

  “Who is it?” Betty said.

  “Farinas Harrell,” Carmen said.

  Amelia sucked air. “Farinas? Like the Farinas who made an entire town bankrupt when they wrongly accused a witch of ladling out potions?”

  Carmen eyed Garrick. “That’s the one. She’ll be here right after dinner. Y’all should meet her.”

  “We brought you cake,” Cordelia said.

  “Thank you. Maybe I’ll have some for breakfast, but I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  We said our goodbyes and left the cake. Cordelia shot Garrick a look that made him stare at the floor and rub his neck.

  Ew. I guess things weren’t so hot between them since he’d arrested our cousin. To be honest, I’d be ticked, too.

  We walked downtown, which was surprisingly busy for a holiday morning. You’d have thought that most witches and wizards would be sleeping in, but not today.

  We passed Idie Claire Hawker’s beauty shop, Spells and Shears. Idie stepped out the door, onto the sidewalk. She wrapped her orange scarf around her neck, took one look at us and smiled widely.

  “Y’all, I am giving free haircuts tomorrow. Free haircuts.” She wrapped her hands around my arms. “Pepper, you know I’ve been dying to play with yours.”

  And you know I don’t want it teased to high heaven.

  I smiled widely. “Thanks, Idie. I’ll think about it.”

  Idie didn’t miss a beat. She grinned at Betty. “And your curls could use a trim, too, Miss Craple.”

  Betty snorted. “You know good and well I get my hair set once a week, Idie. I’m not coming in for a trim.”

  Idie didn’t let that stop her. She then turned to Collinsworth. “And does someone need a shave?”

  The rabbit hopped behind my legs. “I most certainly do not need any sort of shear-related trim, thank you very much. I am fine.”

  Idie hitched a shoulder and smiled vacantly. “Well, anyway, happy Thanksgiving, y’all.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” I murmured.

  We kept on until we reached Castin’ Iron, the store that creates and sells the long cast-iron skillets all the witches in town ride. The owners, Harry and Theodora, carted merchandise onto the sidewalk.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Theodora said. “Need a new skillet? We’re having a sale. Take one for free and you can have another.”

  I stopped. “You’re giving them away?”

  She wrapped her long white hair over one shoulder. “Oh yes, we’re running out of room inside.”

  “Stop it!” Harry yelled. “We’re giving them away because we want to, not because we’re running out of room.”

  Theodora rolled her eyes. “It’s just something to say, Harry. Mind your own beeswax and keep moving skillets.”

  Harry dropped a riding skillet to the sidewalk with a humph. “I won’t be moving any more. I’m tired and hungry. Make me my breakfast, woman.”

  Theodora shook her head. “Men are so helpless unless a woman isn’t around. Then they can do everything for themselves.”

  I linked gazes with Cordelia and laughed. It did seem true and funny. Yet there was something off about the whole thing. Why would they give their wares away?

  We wished the couple goodbye and moved on.

  I sidled up to Amelia. “Something strange is happening.”

  Her mouth puckered to a perfect bow. “Like what do you mean?”

  I lowered my voice. “Don’t you think everyone’s acting weird? First, Cordelia starts being nice to you, then Betty decides to give away half the house and now folks are handing out things they’d never give for free.”

  Amelia nibbled the inside of her lip. “Yeah, I guess something strange is happening. But what?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my hair out. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m overreacting. Oh!” I strode to Betty. “I need to stop by my store and feed the animals. Let them wake up for a while since I’m not open. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

  Betty eyed me. “Better hurry, kid. We’ve got a whole slew of folks showing up at one. I need all the hands I can get to finish up dinner.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. “I promise, I’ll be there quick as I can.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Collinsworth chirped. “I’m afraid your dragon will eat me if I return there alone.”

  “Okay.”

  The rabbit followed me to Familiar Place. I’d almost reached the store when the squealing of tires caught my attention.

  A black sedan with dark tinted windows peeled away from the alley behind the Sweet Witch. When I say peeled away, what I mean is the car was burning rubber. Like seriously burning rubber as if they’d just encountered ebola and the driver was scared to death.

  I was carrying my phone and snapped a picture of the plate before it disappeared from sight. “That’s weird.”

  “Hmm,” Collinsworth said distractedly.

  Something smelled funny in the air, and it wasn’t the track marks the vehicle left on the asphalt. “Collinsworth, who were those men?”

  “What men?”

  “The ones who drove away?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I pointed across the street. “And what do you think I’ll find if we go investigate the shop? Looks like Becky Ray didn’t open this morning.”

  He hitched a furry shoulder. “I can’t say. Perhaps you should ask the owner of Magical Moonshine. It looks like he’s open.”

  He was. I could see Parker Moody in the store. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “We’re going to talk to Parker.”

  Collinsworth backed up. “That monster? He entered the store and yelled at Lori Lou. I thought he might throw something, harm someone. He’s horrible. I can’t face him again.”

  Before the rabbit could keep arguing and give me a whooper of a migraine, I scooped him up and crossed the street.

  “Let me go. You can’t drag me wherever you want. I have rights.”

  I clutched his feet so he’d stop kicking. “Listen, rabbit. You’re the one who came to me needing help. You said someone may try to kill you. Those men didn’t look like they were from around here. Now, they were either in the back of the moonshine joint or the bakery. You say you’ve never seen them and don’t know who they are. Well, I’m putting that to the test.”

  I couldn’t place my finger on it, but I was certain this little furry critter was keeping secrets. He went back to the store for a handkerchief? Thought someone might kill him? Says Becky Ray hates him?

  Hog-freaking-wash. No doubt about it.

  With the little beast still struggling, I hipped open the door of Magical Moonshine. Parker Moody stood behind the counter wiping down the surface.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” he said.

  I gently lowered Collinsworth to the floor, dusted my hands and held back a sneeze. Apparently I was allergic to rabbit
dander. Go figure.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” I said.

  “Care to try a taste of apple pie moonshine?”

  I wove my way around crates and boxes topped with glass mason jars filled with clear liquid of all different colors—green, amber, yellow, lavender, orange.

  I reached the counter. Parker Moody smiled widely. He had clipped brown hair that was graying on the sides. Bright blue eyes twinkled at me, and strong forearms were positioned wide on the counter. The gold band of his wedding ring glinted in the morning sun.

  “You’re open on Thanksgiving?” I said.

  He nodded. “There’ll be a rush in a few minutes. I’ve learned staying open for a few hours like today is worth it.” He extended a hand. “Parker Moody.”

  “Pepper Dunn.”

  “You own Familiar Place.”

  I grinned. “Right.”

  He pulled a jar of green liquid to him and filled a shot glass half-full. “I’ve been meaning to bring my daughter in. She’s twelve.”

  I clicked my tongue appreciatively. “Just the right age for her first familiar. I’d love to help her find the perfect animal. Come by anytime.”

  He pushed the shot glass across the counter. “Free tastings. If you like green apples, you’ll love that. Green apple moonshine.”

  I lifted the glass into the light. It was a delicious looking Jolly Rancher green. My stomach rumbled with delight.

  I ratcheted an eyebrow. “What does it do?”

  He shifted his weight. “You mean, why’s it magical?”

  “Yeah.”

  He slid another shot glass over, filled it with a pale amber liquid. “It does different things. Some witches use the moonshine in spells or potions. Others use it to calm their nerves so they can concentrate on their spells. But most”—his blue eyes sparked with mischief—“use it to feel their power better.”

  “And get a buzz?”

  He nodded to the light brown liquid. “This one’s pumpkin pie. Try it.”

  “I didn’t come here to get drunk.”

  He shrugged in response. I lifted the green apple to my lips and let the liquid slide down my throat. It was smooth—nothing like the burn I’d expected. After a few seconds the strangest thing happened. I felt my magic stir, like it had simply been waiting for me to use it. Like it was a coiled cobra, ready to strike.

  “Whew, that’s good. Almost too good.” My gaze scanned the shelves. “Do you make all these?”

  “Sure do.”

  I walked around and picked up a light pink one labeled Cotton Candy. “Can I try this?”

  From behind me, Collinsworth cleared his throat. I shot him a death glare.

  “Sure,” Parker said. He opened a bottle and poured a finger.

  I crossed back to the counter and stopped. “It was terrible about that Lori Lou being murdered.”

  Parker twisted the cap back on and stopped, stared at me. “Sure was.”

  I raised the glass and brought it to my lips. “She really ticked off a lot of folks.”

  “She ticked me off. Always placing her garbage outside by my door. I told her to stop doing that. Told her repeatedly, but she didn’t. I couldn’t get into my shop because of it.”

  Garbage. I’d seen several bags outside her back door last night when I’d gone in and found Collinsworth.

  “Didn’t she have a dumpster?”

  He nodded. “Out back. We all do. But she didn’t use it.”

  I didn’t bother trying the cotton candy moonshine. Instead I bought it outright and left, hoisting Collinsworth onto my hip as I barreled out the door.

  “Whoa, hold on. I’m only a rabbit. I do break.”

  I raced around back. The garbage bags that I’d kicked the night before were gone. Vanished. The trash truck didn’t run on holidays. Everyone knew that. Yes, I know I live in a magical town full of witches, but there was still trash pickup day.

  Y’all, some things just don’t change whether you’re in the magical world or the regular one.

  “Collinsworth, what was in those trash bags?”

  The rabbit said nothing.

  “What was in them?”

  “I don’t…I don’t know.”

  “You do too know. Why aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t know anything about it. Or them. Nothing.”

  I tapped my booted toe on the ground. “Fine. You don’t know anything about the garbage; you don’t know anything about who might’ve wanted to kill Lori Lou, the one person you loved in life. Fine. I’ll go to Garrick right now and tell him that you’re withholding evidence.” I touched my nose to his and glared at the rabbit. “Do you know what the police do to rabbits who withhold evidence?”

  “N-n-no. What?” he said quietly.

  “They fricassee them. Turn them into stew.”

  Collinsworth gasped.

  Yes, I know it wasn’t nice of me to suggest the rabbit would be eaten. I was only bluffing. For those of y’all who wouldn’t harm Thumper even though Thumper clearly knew a crapload more than he was telling, don’t worry. Your precious baby wasn’t going to be anyone’s next meal.

  “Okay,” Collinsworth said.

  “Okay what?”

  He sighed. “Lori Lou was selling potions out the back door.”

  I quirked a brow. “What sort of potions?”

  Collinsworth kneaded his hands. He gulped loudly. “Love potions. She was selling illegal love potions. And it got her killed.”

  EIGHT

  I stood in Garrick’s office. My fist slammed his desk. No, it wasn’t pretty. I banged my fist while Garrick eyed me like he was two steps away from throwing a pair of handcuffs on me.

  “Carmen didn’t kill Lori Lou. The rabbit told me she was selling love potions illegally.”

  Garrick eyed Collinsworth. “The rabbit?”

  “He talks.” I nudged the bunny with my toe. “Speak for the man.”

  “Oh yes, I’m fluent in three languages—English, French and American.”

  Garrick hid a smile behind his hand.

  I pressed my palms flat and leaned over. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but she was selling love potions.”

  “Proof?” Garrick said.

  My stomach clenched. “Yeah, I’m kind of short on that.”

  “Then I can’t help you.” Garrick dropped his feet from the desk and rose. “Listen, Pepper, I know you want to help your cousin, but the best way you can do that is to stay out of it. I know you liked to play investigator with Axel and you miss him. We all do, but this is official police business.”

  I bristled like a scared cat. “I didn’t play investigator with Axel.”

  Garrick shot me a pointed look.

  I raised my palms in surrender. “Okay, maybe I did a little. My relationship with Axel is none of your business.”

  “I agree. Now get out of here.”

  “I got a picture of the car that screamed down Bubbling Cauldron. Don’t you even want to run the plate, see where it takes you?”

  Garrick shook his head. “I’m working a murder case, not a drug one. There’s no evidence of it. None. I’ve got my suspect locked up.”

  “Oh yeah? What evidence do you have?”

  He eyed me coldly. “That’s confidential.”

  I waved my phone in his face. “I’ll go to Farinas with this. A lot of bad press can come to this town.”

  Garrick’s face crimsoned. “You’ve caused a lot of bad press in this town,” he exploded. “May I remind you that it was your fault the time watch broke and we almost had to suffer through Halloween every day of the year?”

  I cringed. “I apologized for that.”

  “Get out,” he demanded. “Get out now. And before you even consider going to Farinas Harrell”—he glanced out his office and shut the door—“between you and me.”

  My heart leaped. “Between us.”

  He wagged a finger at me. “If I hear that you or your bunny mouthed one word of this, I swear I’ll toss you in a
cell.”

  I crossed my heart. “Promise.”

  “You swear? Not even your cousins. Not Betty. No one.”

  “No one.” My stomach was a bundle of butterflies. What was Garrick going to tell me?

  “Carmen’s fingerprints were all over those scissors.”

  “No.” My hand flew to my mouth.

  “Yes. So before you start spouting off about there being love potions traded in town, you think about that.”

  “But she was—she was framed, Garrick. Can’t you see that?”

  He slumped back in his chair, raised his cowboy-booted feet to the desk. He picked up a stress ball and tossed it from hand to hand. “I’ve got to do what the clues say. The evidence is overwhelming. I’ll tell you one more time—overwhelming. Don’t run around and screw it up.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  He shot me a dark look.

  “Well, I’m not now.”

  “Better,” he said. “Now go enjoy your Thanksgiving. I’ll see you at the house this afternoon.”

  Oh crap! I’d totally forgotten I promised Betty I’d help finish the cooking. I grabbed Collinsworth and waved goodbye.

  “See you then!”

  I hustled from the station. For once I wished I knew how to fly. I practically ran the entire way home. As I passed cottages, I noticed that other folks had placed furniture on their grass like Betty. Their signs also advertised that the furniture was free.

  What in heck’s bells was going on?

  No time to wonder about it, because Thanksgiving dinner was less than three hours away and I had a crapload of stuff to do—I was just sure of it.

  I dropped Collinsworth inside and ran to the kitchen. Betty and my cousins stood at various counters wearing aprons. They were each covered in flour.

  I raised the brown bag Parker Moody had given me. “I brought the moonshine!”

  “Great,” Betty huffed, “’cause we’re going to need it to get through this holiday without Carmen. Pepper, put on an apron. Cordelia will tell you what to do.”

  I did as I was told and stepped beside my cousin who was opening cans of cream of mushroom soup. She slid one toward me.