Magic & Misdeeds

by Annabel Chase

  I rolled my eyes. “I burn my nipples? I’m trying to catch a killer, not chlamydia.”

  You seem to be confusing the sheriff with his brother.

  “I didn’t really mean that Granger…” PP3 perked up and began to bark. I shook a finger at my familiar. “No more talk about STIs in front of the sheriff.”

  Raoul held up a paw. Need I remind you that he can’t hear me?

  “No, but I can.” I yanked open the door. “How’d it go?” Based on the sheriff’s broad grin, my guess was pretty good.

  “We’re in luck,” he said. “Found one of her strands of hair on his cloak. It’s made of a polyester blend and all kinds of fibers stick to it. He really needs to wash it more regularly.”

  “Are you sure the hair is hers?” I asked. I pictured us tracking down Darth by mistake.

  “Only one way to know for sure.”

  “Okay, let’s go into the kitchen. It’s where I do my best work.”

  Raoul made a noise that sounded like a garbled laugh and I shot him a dirty look.

  “Um, Rose. I don’t mean to judge, but why do you have an empty donut box on the floor? Can’t you snack at the table like a normal witch?”

  I scooped up the empty box and made a lame attempt to wipe away the powder. “This is Raoul’s doing. He’s been bringing lots of gifts home recently. He’s suddenly very popular at the dump.”

  The sheriff lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so? You don’t find that unusual?”

  “Oh, I find it very unusual that he’s popular.”

  My familiar’s beady eyes turned to slits. Don’t make me go rabid.

  You go rabid in front of the sheriff and he’ll have you put down. Now stay here and let the professionals work.

  I disappeared into the kitchen with Sheriff Nash and hurried to the pantry. I rifled through Marley’s herb collection and then retrieved the mortar and pestle from the cabinet.

  The sheriff gave a nod of approval. “This looks real official Rose. All you need is a pointy hat and you’re good to go.”

  I aimed my wand at him. “Watch it, werewolf, or you might find yourself on the wrong end of a spell.”

  He resisted the urge to smile. “Would that be by accident or on purpose?”

  I growled before returning my attention to the locator spell. I tried to remember what Wren had taught me. He’d be pleased if I told him that I managed a successful spell outside of our lessons. Gold star for Ember!

  The sheriff rubbed his hands together. “Anything I can do? I hate feeling idle.”

  “You’re not idle,” I said. “Just cool your heels for a second. As soon as I get the location, you’re back in action.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and fell silent. I busied myself with the spell, pulling out the ingredients and mashing them together. I lit the mixture on fire and then added the strand of hair. I pointed my wand at the mortar and said, “Ostendo.”

  A familiar image flashed between us. A street lined with psychic services, including a sign for the Voice of the Gods.

  “Seers Row,” we said in unison.

  I gulped for air. The spell had sucked the energy from me, probably a combination of being woefully out of practice and a long and busy day.

  “Good work, Rose.” The sheriff clapped me on the back.

  I extinguished the fire and went to the sink to pour myself a glass of water. I noticed Bonkers hovering outside the window and opened it. The winged kitten perched on the ledge and meowed.

  “I can’t understand a word you’re saying, but that makes you no less adorable,” I said.

  Bonkers wants to help, Raoul said.

  I spun around. “When did you come in here? I told you to stay out in the living room.” I turned back to my daughter’s familiar. “Do you want to help or is Timmy stuck in the well again?”

  The winged kitten meowed softly.

  “Sounds like a yes to me,” the sheriff said.

  “Great, Bonkers. You’re on the team.”

  Why can’t I be on the team? Raoul complained.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “When we need someone to eat their way through a crime scene, you can be on the team.” I faced the winged kitten. “We’re looking for a brunette banshee. The spell says she’s currently on Seers Row. Fly there now and try to keep tabs on her until we get there. Capisce?”

  The winged kitten flew away without a backward glance.

  “It’s like having your own winged monkey,” the sheriff said. “Except an adorable kitten.” He rubbed his rugged jawline. “What does capisce mean? Is that witchy talk?”

  “No, it’s New Jersey Italian talk,” I said. “At least that’s where I picked it up. It means ‘do you understand?’ A lot of my friends’ parents used to say it when we were growing up.” I wagged a finger and did my best impression of Maria Gallo’s mother. “Maria, this liquor cabinet better be in the same condition we left it when we get home from Uncle Vito’s place in the Bahamas. Capisce?”

  The sheriff chuckled. “It would’ve been fun to know you as a kid, I bet. Into all sorts of trouble.”

  “I wasn’t bad, not really. I didn’t want to cause my dad any grief. I figured he’d suffered enough, losing my mom. And Karl was in my life by then too.”

  “I guess having a baby when you’re young is its own brand of trouble,” the sheriff said. “Not that I’m saying Marley is any trouble.”

  “It’s okay. I know what you mean,” I said.

  Aw, this exchange of deeply personal information is touching, but don’t you have a suspect to apprehend?

  I glared at the raccoon. You’re just jealous because I assigned Bonkers a task.

  Raoul climbed onto the countertop and started out the kitchen window. I’m going back to the dump where I’m wanted.

  The problem was that the window was only partially open and his body got stuck.

  “Looks like somebody’s been overindulging in carbs,” I said. “You might want to rethink all those gifts from your buddies.” I raised the window another couple of inches and he wriggled through. I closed the window and locked it before turning back to the sheriff.

  “Glad to see you locking your doors and windows,” he said. “Until we catch this killer, we need to be on alert.”

  “Don’t forget I’ve got the best home security in town.” I pushed open the kitchen door and spotted my home security system snoring on the sofa in a tight ball. The Yorkshire terrier didn’t bother to lift his head as the sheriff and I left the cottage.

  “I see what you mean,” the sheriff said wryly.

  We drove to Seers Row and the sheriff parallel parked in the first available spot.

  “You’re much better at parking than Deputy Bolan,” I said.

  “That’s because he can barely see over the dashboard,” the sheriff said.

  “Ooh, snap,” I said. “I won’t tell him you said that, unless he insults me and it’s the first comeback I can think of. Then I’m throwing you under the bus.”

  The sheriff chuckled. “I can always count on you.”

  We stepped out of the car and I spotted Bonkers up ahead, hovering in front of a shop window. That was promising.

  We passed Veronica’s shop, the aforementioned Voice of the Gods, and I was relieved Nova wasn’t in there. The psychic had a tendency to shriek and the thought of Nova’s voice mixed in with that was enough to make me abandon our quest.

  “Is she in that one, Bonkers?” I asked, as we approached the building.

  The answer hit me before I even saw her. And by hit me, I mean assaulted my eardrums. The sheriff’s hands flew to cover his ears.

  “Are we sure she’s not a dolphin shifter?” Sheriff Nash asked, wincing.

  “Great balls of popcorn. It’s worse than Janice,” I said. I didn’t think such a sound was possible.

  “Who’s Janice?” the sheriff asked.

  “There’s a television show in the human world called Friends,” I said. “Janice was the ex-girlfriend of one of th
e main characters and her voice…” Elvis on a cracker, this was so much worse.

  We pressed our faces against the window of a place called The Fourth Wall and peered at the scene inside. I spotted the backpack first, resting on the floor at the banshee’s feet. The name Nova was emblazoned across the back in pink sparkly letters. The banshee stood at a cocktail table opposite a man in a…I squinted hard.

  “Is he wearing a Deadpool costume?” I asked.

  “I don’t know who that is, but he’s definitely in some kind of special outfit.”

  I snorted. “Psychic Deadpool. I love it.”

  “Looks like a tarot card reading,” the sheriff said.

  “Perfect. Let’s see if he predicted our appearance.” I pushed open the door and waved. “Hey, so sorry to interrupt. We were hoping for a reading.”

  “Welcome to The Fourth Wall, Sheriff Nash,” Psychic Deadpool said. “If you have a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  We sat in two metal chairs by the window. I noticed a stack of magazines next to me and chose one entitled Psychic Interiors.

  “Oh, this one has an article on pimped-out psychic offices,” I whispered. I actually wanted to read it. I wondered whether there was a way I could sneak it into my bag, except it probably wasn’t a good idea to commit theft in the company of the sheriff—or at all.

  “What about this card?” Nova asked, ignoring our presence. “Does it mean my boyfriend will propose soon?”

  Psychic Deadpool gazed at the card. “I’m not sure where you’re getting that from. This is Death.”

  “Well, that’s marriage for some paranormals, isn’t it?” She tossed back her head and cackled in a way that made the hair on my arms stand straight.

  “I understand that you’re eager for that proposal as you’ve basically asked about it with every card you’ve chosen,” the psychic said, “but I think the universe is trying to encourage you to make other plans.”

  Nova crossed her arms in a huff. “Does it say what the issue is? I mean, I do everything I can to please him. I cook and I hate to cook. I fake interest in the crap he likes to do. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for the stupid tournament.”

  My gaze met the sheriff’s. It sounded like Nova wasn’t an actual participant. Come to think of it, Patton didn’t mention that she had a phone, only that she was on the dock with them. She could have easily been sightseeing or killing time while she waited…or killing more than time.

  The sheriff and I stayed silent and continued to listen. I flipped through the magazine and the sheriff stuck his nose in his phone.

  Psychic Deadpool exhaled loudly. “As I’ve already mentioned five hundred times, the cards aren’t a detailed journal of your life. I can’t see specifics about your boyfriend, or whether he’s seeing someone on the side, or whether he’s noticed your new haircut.” He mimicked her voice and I began to wonder if business was very good for him. While I agreed that she was something of a shrew, this didn’t seem the right way to conduct business. His unprofessional behavior was probably the reason Veronica was popular. Plus, she had Jericho as her assistant. Who could compete with that dynamic duo?

  “He notices my haircuts when I tell him I’ve had one.” Nova slapped her hands on the table and shoved the cards aside. They fluttered to the floor in a scattered pile.

  Psychic Deadpool threw up his hands. “What’d you do that for?”

  “I didn’t pay for bad news,” she said.

  “You didn’t pay for anything yet,” he said.

  Nova turned to us. “Don’t waste good coin on this phony. He doesn’t get anything right.”

  The psychic adjusted his mask. “How can I help you? Will this be a double reading?”

  “Not a reading. Just a few questions.” The sheriff jerked his head toward Nova, who was now heading for the door.

  “Sounds like a reading to me,” Psychic Deadpool said.

  I slipped out of the building behind her and left the sheriff to chat with Psychic Deadpool and see what he could find out about their spirited reading.

  “That sounds like it sucked,” I said, hurrying to fall in step beside her. “You should try Veronica. She’s the best.”

  Nova stopped walking and looked at me, her rodent-like face scrunched in a ball. “That guy was minotaur shit. He kept saying my boyfriend and I have no future. He can’t possibly know that. Those cards were useless.”

  Gee, who would’ve thought a guy in a Deadpool costume wouldn’t provide the accurate information you were seeking?

  “Sounds like you’re having doubts about your relationship,” I said.

  Nova bristled. “I’m not. I’m just trying to keep busy this weekend. I thought a reading was a good idea. I tried the broomstick tour, but I almost vomited from the turns. Heights aren’t my thing.”

  “You sound like my daughter,” I said. “She’s not a fan either, so I don’t fly very often.”

  Nova looked me up and down. “You’re a witch?”

  “Yeah, I happen to love flying. I wish I had more time to do it.”

  “To each her own.” She rocked back and forth on her heels. “Are you local? Any advice for activities? I’ve been here since Thursday and I’m verging on complete and total boredom.”

  “Are you here for the tournament?” I asked. “Why not play the game?”

  She scoffed. “Are you kidding? Have you seen it? So dumb. I’m only here to keep my boyfriend from running off with some bimbo fairy while he’s out of town.”

  “I don’t know that I’ve seen many…bimbo fairies involved in the tournament. They’re mostly guys.” I paused for a beat. “So, I can offer sightseeing suggestions, but it would help to know which parts of town you’ve already seen.” Like Palmetto House, perhaps?

  Nova pursed her lips, thinking. “I did the broomstick tour, then I went to Mariner’s Landing to throw breadcrumbs for the mermaids and selkies.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “They’re not ducks.”

  Her smile was mean-spirited. “No, ducks are cuter.”

  “Where’d you start the morning?”

  “Well, my boyfriend insisted on getting up at the crack of dawn to start the tournament.” She rolled her eyes. “Who does that?”

  “Pretty much every player here from the sound of it,” I said.

  “So dumb. Anyway, I slept late and had breakfast at a diner.” She snapped her fingers. “Stake-n-Shake.”

  “By yourself?”

  She scowled. “No need to rub it in.”

  “Any chance you’ve checked out the local architecture? Palmetto House is a beautiful historic building, if you like that sort of thing.”

  “That place sounds familiar,” Nova said.

  My pulse sped up. “It does?”

  “I think we tried to stay there, but it was full by the time we got around to booking.”

  My spirits plummeted. “Yeah, it’s at capacity because of the tournament.” Well, not anymore. “Did you go to see it?”

  “Why would I? I just told you we couldn’t get in. I’m not going to make myself feel worse by checking it out.”

  Okay, time to try a different tack. “I’ve met some pretty cool guys this weekend. If you and your boyfriend are destined not to work out, maybe you’ll meet someone else while you’re here.”

  To my surprise, Nova actually looked interested. Her poor boyfriend. “Yeah? I’ve only seen losers so far like a dude in a dirty robe and a smelly werebear that asked me for directions. Where are the hot ones hanging out?”

  “I met this guy Clark last night and he was…” I struggled to get the lie out. “…seriously smoking.” I choked on the words.

  “Clark doesn’t sound like a smoking hot name,” she said. “Is he a werewolf? They don’t tend to like me. Not sure what puts them off.”

  “Gosh, I have no idea,” I lied. “Clark’s not a werewolf. He’s a leprechaun.”

  She cackled and I was fairly certain I heard the sound of breaking glass in the distance. “
Honey, I would never date a little green dude. I have something called standards.”

  “Have you met him?” I asked. “Because I think you might change your mind. He oozes confidence.” Well, the only thing he oozed now was blood.

  “I haven’t met any leprechauns,” Nova said. “If I did, I’d probably have ignored him anyway. If there’s no point to meeting him, why would I bother?”

  Nova was a real gem. “If you’re looking for a good bar for later tonight, Elixir always draws a crowd.” I wasn’t about to direct her to the Whitethorn where I planned to be. I had standards too.

  “Sounds like a cool place.”

  “It totally is. And if you’re into activities, there’s always unicorn riding or a simple game of tennis,” I said.

  Nova rubbed her wrists. “No way. After that broomstick ride, I need to give my opposable thumbs a rest.”

  “You held on that tightly, huh?” I asked.

  “No, I suffer from horrible carpal tunnel in both my wrists,” she said. “It’s one reason I don’t like texting. I can’t hold a phone too long before I get sore. I don’t think I’d do well with a tennis racquet either.”

  “I bet there’s a potion for that,” I said. Because there seemed to be a potion for every imaginable ailment.

  “I have braces, but I didn’t bring them. I don’t like to wear them in front of my boyfriend,” she said. “There’s no way to make them sexy.”

  Nova seemed desperate to please someone by pretending to be someone she wasn’t. As sad as it was, her relationship status wasn’t my concern.

  “I’m sure you can find a cute set of braces,” I said diplomatically.

  Nova scanned the street. “Which one is Veronica’s? I think I’ll give her a try. Maybe she’ll have better news than that red pleather freak.”

  I pointed to Veronica’s shop and silently apologized to the psychic and Jericho. “Good luck!”

  The sheriff joined me on the curb as Nova disappeared into the building. “And?”

  “And I don’t think she did it,” I said.

  “She had an alibi?”

  “No, she claims she was still asleep at the time of the murder, but I believe her,” I said. “She had no idea who Clark was. She doesn’t care about the tournament.” All she cared about was herself. “She also suffers from carpal tunnel in both wrists. Didn’t even want to consider lifting a tennis racquet.”