by Tegan Maher
Noelle raised a brow. “You think so? You’re underage. I’m not sure about Kira, but she doesn’t look old enough to drink, either.”
Shelby turned the exact same expression back on her older sister. “One, Kira’s plenty old enough to drink. Angel, remember? She doesn’t age like we do. And two, we fight demons, wicked witches, and all sorts of bad guys that are trying to kill us on a regular basis. I think that adds a level of maturity beyond my eighteen years. Plus, I have been in college for the past four months. Believe it or not, it won’t be my first drink.”
Noelle wobbled her head back and forth. “Fine. One glass. That stuff’s not store-bought, though; two light me up and three puts me under the table. Anything beyond that, you’re takin’ back stuff you didn’t even steal.” She smirked. “Even considering your accelerated maturity, I don’t think you can out-drink me yet. And put it in jelly jars, not tall glasses.”
Shelby poured us each a glass, and Max, who was curled up on a large dog bed in the corner of the kitchen, pushed to his feet and cleared his throat.
“Of course,” Shelby said, and I blinked when she reached into a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured a heavy blurp into a bowl.
When she set it on the floor, I had to ask. “Is that a regular thing?”
Max gave me a look that, even on a donkey’s face, wasn’t hard to interpret.
“I’m several hundred years old and started life off as a man. I think if I want a scotch, I’m entitled to it.”
Shelby laughed. “And if we gave you a scotch every time you wanted one, we couldn’t afford the rest of the bills.”
I just shook my head. Whatever worked for them, I supposed. They wouldn’t get any judgment from me. I gasped and sputtered when I took the first drink of my eggnog.
“Holy crap on a cracker!” I exclaimed. “Is there anything other than straight rocket fuel in there?” I’d drunk plenty of angel wine, so it wasn’t like I was a rookie. Like Shelby said, I was older than I looked, though not by much. Still, I was pretty sure the stuff had been made in a bathtub somewhere.
Noelle’s lips curved into a half-smile. “Take another drink. It grows on you.”
Sure enough, after the third sip, it was delicious. The eggs and cream and spices created a nice profile that really put me in the spirit, or at least as much as I could be considering there was a murderer on the loose. Those didn’t tend to bother me much, though. Even the strongest human couldn’t hold a candle to a pissed-off demon.
While we passed the time, Noelle and Shelby told me about growing up there. By the time Noelle’s phone rang, a pleasant warmth had spread through me, and the eggnog was going down much easier.
“Hang on, sweetie,” she said. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
She did, then launched into the story. Shelby added details as necessary, then asked if she should have Will go out there.
He paused. “I suppose so since I’m not going out alone. I’ll have to call Jim. At least he’s in town for the holidays, so we won’t have to wait forever. Tell him not to go in, though. No need for that.”
“Okay, will do,” Shelby said.
After Noelle ended the call, she turned to me, answering my question before I had a chance to ask it.
“Jim’s the coroner and a crime scene investigator. Usually, he works out of Atlanta, but he’s from here and his family still lives here. He’s discreet and knows about us, so it’s an ideal situation. Or at least as ideal as it can be given the circumstances.”
“So we just sit here and wait?” I asked. It wasn’t in my nature to sit on the sidelines.
“That’s really all we can do at this point,” she said, thumbing through the contacts on her phone. “We’ll finish decorating. It’ll be at least a couple hours before Hunter wraps up the paperwork, and he’ll probably talk to Richard, too.”
I sighed as she made the call. I wasn’t happy with that response, but it wasn’t my monkey or my circus, as Shelby was fond of saying. Decorating, it was. And maybe we could talk Noelle into another glass of eggnog.
7
Sure enough, Hunter didn’t get to the farm for almost three hours.
“Did you find anything out?” Noelle asked as he took off his coat and toed off his boots.
He shook his head, and a lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead. He swept it back. “Nothing you hadn’t already told us. I stopped and talked to Richard and to the new neighbors. Richard was alone at home all evening because his wife and daughter took his grandkids to town to see the Christmas play. That’s why he got a pizza. He said he wouldn’t go anywhere, so I didn’t see a need to arrest him just yet.”
“Do you think he did it?” I asked. Surely he had a good gut even though he was human. I couldn’t imagine how frustrating it must have been for him.
He pulled in a deep breath, and his brown eyes were troubled. “I don’t think so. I’ve known him for a while now, and I can’t imagine him doing something like this. On the other hand, though, it’s not like it would be odd if he were driving up that road, and Michelle and her husband got home from work at about the same time.”
“Yeah,” I replied, hating to even point out the flaw I saw in the explanation, “but he’d gotten the pizza earlier because we ran into him. So where was he going if he told you he’d been at home all evening?”
Hunter furrowed his brow. “That’s a valid point, and I thought about it. Maybe it wasn’t his truck after all. Danged if I know who else it might have been, though.”
It was late and we were all exhausted by the time we finished decorating the house.
By the time we went to bed, I fell right asleep. Even murder wasn’t enough to keep me awake after a full day of travel, stress, and dealing with new faces, no matter how nice they’d turned out to be.
When I woke up the next morning, the sun was shining. I yawned and went to the window. Pulling back the curtains, I gasped at the scene beneath me. Snow blanketed the ground, and the sun shone off it almost like it did the palace in Celestial City. The sky was a clear, deep blue, and the branches of trees were sagging under the weight of the fluffy white snow. Horses grazed in the pasture, and chickens pecked around in the packed snow of the little area outside their coop searching for breakfast. It was like something from a postcard.
I got dressed and plunked down the stairs, my head clearing as the scent of coffee wafted from the kitchen.
“That smells amazing,” I said, making a beeline toward the Keurig. I picked through the selection of coffees and plucked out a pod of caramel mocha, then deposited it into the machine. Somebody had already sat a clean cup and spoon beside the maker.
“How did you sleep?” I asked Shelby and Noelle, who were both already at the kitchen table drinking their own coffees.
“Better than I expected,” Shelby said. “It’s nice to be back in my own room and my own bed even if there is a murderer roaming around out there.”
I shivered as my coffee finished brewing. “I doubt anybody is roaming around out there. It’s freezing.”
Noelle gave a little laugh. “You’re telling me. Hunter proved yet again what an awesome guy he is by feeding the horses and chickens for me before he left to talk to Christine and Judd Thomas again.”
I stirred cream and sugar into my coffee and joined them at the table. A plate of pastries sat in the middle, and I chose a turnover. I groaned when I bit into it.
“This is amazing,” I said, not even bothering to swallow the nutty, fruity, cream-cheesy deliciousness before commenting.
Noelle smiled. “Thanks. It’s almond-orange, one of my holiday specialties.”
“You baked this?” I asked after chasing the bite down with a drink of coffee. Shelby had told me her sister was a kitchen witch, or at least had been before her powers had exploded into a wide range of gifts a year ago.
She nodded and smiled.
“I know why Shelby misses your food so much, then.” I took another big bite of the pastry, hoping
she sent us home with a huge batch.
Noelle’s phone dinged with a text, and her eyes got wide as she read it.
“What?” Shelby asked, noticing the change in her demeanor.
“I forgot I told Justin he could bring a bunch of his friends over early. He wants to show off his new horse and help get the team ready for the hayride later.”
“Justin’s sort of our adopted little brother,” Shelby explained, then turned to Noelle. “Are we still doing all that?”
Noelle pulled in a deep breath and released it through her cheeks. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice. There’s no way we could get word to the entire town that it’s off.”
“The entire town?” I asked, and I was sure my eyes were bulging.
“Well, not the entire town, but enough that it’s too many to call. Anna Mae—another friend—invited a couple people and so did Coralee, Raeann, and Bobbie Sue. Christmas Eve is always a big deal here.”
“Speaking of Raeann,” Shelby said, “where’s she at? She’s closing the shop today, right?”
Raeann was the cousin that owned the coffee shop, and from the way Shelby talked about her, she was more like a third sister than a cousin.
“She is, but she said she had some last-minute shopping to do. She’ll be out later in time to help us set up,” Noelle replied. “We need to get the rest of the food ready, though.”
“What food?” Shelby asked. “I was hoping to take Kira for a ride. She’s never ridden a horse, and I wanted to show her the cabin.”
I flapped a hand, my stomach giving a little flip-flob at the idea of riding a horse. The idea of preparing food was much more appealing. “It’s fine. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to do that some other time. We’re here for a week. Besides, it’s freezing outside. I’m not sure how much fun it will be if we turn into popsicles before we even make it out of the yard.”
Shelby cast me a doubtful look. “Are you sure? I’m sure we can get everything done in time to squeeze in at least a quick ride.”
“Plenty sure,” I said, smiling. “Party prep, I’m used to. Riding horses in sub-arctic temps, not so much.”
She nodded, and I sagged a little in relief. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d been a little scared to ride a horse, so I was happy for the reprieve. Now just to solve the murder.
8
We’d just finished our first cups of coffee when the air at the end of the table shimmered. Bob appeared, still glowering as always.
“Did you figure out who kilt me yet?” he asked, lip curled. “I don’t wanna be stuck here no longer than I have to. I went to the farm and the cows need milked. Get somebody out there to do it.”
Noelle held up a hand. “Get your knickers out of that twist. Will’s sendin’ one of the Erikson boys out to do it.”
Bob snorted. “Them boys are worthless as rubber lips on a woodpecker. I hired ’em for the hayfield last summer and they broke the rake skimmin’ too close to the ground.”
“Well they’re not as worthless as you are right now, are they?” Noelle said, glaring right back at him. “Who gets your place now that you’re dead, anyway? We can’t have folks takin’ care of your cows forever.”
“It goes to our kids, though good luck gettin’ them to come milk a cow. I ain’t laid eyes on any of the three of ’em in over six months. Have Richard do it. Least he knows the place.”
I raised a brow at him. “You mean Richard, the guy who may have been the one to go upside your head with the pipe wrench?”
He huffed a breath out through his nose and waved me off. “Richard may be on my bad side right now due to them blasted lights, but he ain’t no killer. We’ve been neighbors for decades and we usually get along okay. You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree if that’s where you’re lookin’.”
“Well, right now it’s the only place we have to look. He’s the only one who has motive, no alibi, and drives a green truck,” Shelby said.
“What’s a green truck got to do with anything?” he asked, and Shelby explained.
“There’s any number of reasons he’d be leavin’,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe he was checkin’ the fenceline. Why if just drivin’ down the road makes him a killer, you got a whole town full of folks to toss in jail. Pick somebody else. I’d suspect almost anybody before Richard.”
This didn’t sound like the same crotchety old man we’d seen in the pizza place or talked to the night before. That made me curious about what made him tick. I narrowed my eyes at him, thinking.
“What are you lookin’ at, Blondie?”
I arched a brow at him. “First, call me Blondie one more time, and I’ll make sure you never get to whatever good place you may have a shot at.”
Shelby nodded. “She’s not kidding. She’s an honest-to-god angel. She can do it.”
“With that said,” I went on, “why do you hate Richard’s Christmas lights so much? We were at your place. They’re too far away to bother you or your cows, if that’s even a thing.”
“I can tell you why,” a disembodied female voice said. An older ghost with a silvery beehive hairdo and heavy seventies-style makeup appeared. “He don’t hate it. Well, maybe he does, but only because it reminds him of times gone by. There was a time when his place was all decorated up. Maybe not to that extent, but he used to have a big ole Christmas shindig at his place every year. Musta been forty years back when Sarah Louise—his wife, God rest her soul—was still alive and his kids were little, but I’d bet dollars to donuts he don’t like Richard’s decorations because they remind him he’s all alone out there now.”
“Is that true?” I asked, tilting my head at him in favor of finding out who the new ghost was.
He grumbled, but his cheeks turned a silvery pink.
“Shame on you, then,” Noelle said, scowling at him. “Bein’ mean just because you’re jealous.”
“Now that we got that out of the way,” the woman ghost said, casting a disgusted look at Bob before she turned to me, “I’m Belle. I own the Clip N Curl. Or at least I did ’til I kicked the bucket. Now Coralee owns it. I just hang out and make sure she does it right.”
I barely suppressed my grin at that. Even though I hadn’t met Coralee, I felt a little sorry for her. Belle was a true southern matriarch type, which meant she could make the pope feel guilty, emotionally exhausted, and grateful for the attention all at the same time.
“Kira,” I replied, smiling at her.
“I know,” she said, her smile smug. “I done heard all about you. Can I see your wings?”
Her expression was so hopeful that had I not been ashamed of the raggedy things, I’d have gladly popped them out for her.
“Belle!” Noelle exclaimed. “I shouldn’t have to tell you of all people to mind your manners, but it seems I do. Behave yourself.”
“Oh, sorry,” Belle replied, though she didn’t look the slightest bit regretful.
“You gonna find out who kilt me or not?” Bob demanded, bringing the conversation back to him. “I bet that’s why I ain’t seein’ the light or whatever it is I’m supposed to be doin’.”
Belle rolled her eyes at him. “Not everybody sees a light. Could be, you aren’t gonna even cross over. It happens, as many post-living people around here will attest.”
Bob snorted. “Post-livin’. What kind of politically correct baloney is that?”
Belle’s face became thunderous and she slammed her fists on her ample hips. “It’s not baloney. It’s called manners. Noelle might have needed to remind me to mind mine, but at least I have some. It wouldn’t kill you to dig a little deeper and find yours, too. Bein’ considerate of others ain’t got nothin’ to do with political correctness; it’s just common decency.”
Bob looked somewhat chastised and mumbled and weak apology. “My question stands, though. Are you people gonna get off your duffs and figure this out, or what?”
“Everything that can be done is,” Noelle replied. “Maybe Jim’ll pick up some DNA ev
idence or somethin’. Until then, though, we’re stuck unless you remember somethin’.”
“Fine,” he said, fading from sight, “Don’t hurry on my account or anything.”
“You’re already dead!” Belle called after him. “It ain’t like you’re in a hurry anymore.” She turned her attention to me. “Nice to meet you, Kira dear. I’ll see all of you again in a bit. Right now, I need to go talk to Coralee.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said as she disappeared.
“See what I meant when I said my fam was a lot?” Shelby asked, and all I could do was nod. She hadn’t been lying, that was for sure.
9
Over the next few hours, we used a combination of magic and good ole fashioned hard work to put together vegetable trays, dips, plates of chips, fudge, and pastries, and other little finger foods. We set up tables in the front room and decorated them with Christmassy tablecloths and centerpieces while Addie and Belle presided.
“I’m not moving that table again,” Shelby snapped at Addie. “It’s just fine where it is. For that matter, it was just fine where it was before. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve done this.”
Addie had been particularly pushy, flitting back and forth between what we were doing in the living room and what Hunter, Cody, and their friend Matt were doing outside.
“Don’t mind her,” Shelby had said earlier when Addie’d had me move vegetable trays around in different spots on the same table. “She always gets her knickers in a knot when we have get-togethers. You should see her at Halloween when we really go all-out. We used to be able to keep her occupied when she was alive, but now that she can’t physically help, she’s a tyrant to all of us at once. She’ll settle down, though. She just wants everything to be perfect.”
As far as the murder went, Hunter was at a dead end. His crime scene guy had pulled fingerprints from the pipe wrench, but he had to wait to hear back from his lab. Since it was the holidays, everything was running slow. Until he got a new clue or those results back, there wasn’t much he could do. Bob, meanwhile, came and went, grousing for a while until he ran out of energy, then giving us an hour or so of peace until he could recover.