Unbaked Croakies: A Magical Cozy Mystery with Talking Animals (Enchanting Inquiries Book 1)

by Sam Cheever

  More pounding shook the front door and several voices called out, sounding angrier by the moment.

  “Naida!” Maude sounded frantic.

  I glanced her way as the first chime sounded, relief flooding me. A second chime sounded a bit farther away. The sound of something whirling through the air brought my head up, and I reached for the item flying toward me. To my dismay, the object glanced off the heel of my hand and flew away. It hit a locker down the hall and landed in a clatter on the floor, skidding over the slick surface until it bumped against Maude’s boot.

  She looked down and gave a squeal.

  I flinched, certain that scream meant I’d retrieved a dead mouse or something equally repugnant to a teenaged girl.

  Like a history quiz.

  But she reached down and scooped up a hairbrush, holding it in the air for me to see. “You’re the best!” Then she waved her hand over the bars and shoved both hands into them to open the doors. “It must have been stuck,” she said to a group of angry teens.

  I felt the whisper-soft touch of something against my back. Reaching over my shoulders and around my back, I groped around as best I could but couldn’t find anything. It had probably just been a breeze from the opening doors.

  The lights in the hallway flashed on and I started quickly forward, hoping I could slide through the doors without being seen by the crowd.

  “Naida!” Maude called out as I tried to slip unseen past the roiling crowd of hormones and emotions.

  Bear boogers! I’d almost made it.

  Then somebody giggled.

  Somebody else guffawed.

  Hilarity exploded all around me.

  My nightmare blossomed into real life. Everyone was tittering and pointing at my backside.

  Or maybe it was at my mom jeans. Either way, I wanted to turn and run as fast as I could into the early morning freedom beyond the doors.

  I whipped around, pressing my back to the door frame, my gaze searching frantically for a way out. But I was trapped.

  Surrounded by a sea of laughing, mean-eyed teens, all focused on me.

  It was every naked school dream ever dreamed, all tied up into one horrible, beyond-embarrassing moment.

  Maude walked up and frowned, her gaze similarly fixed on my wide back end. “What in the world?” To my horror, she reached toward my bottom. “Naida, why do you have a pair of men’s boxers attached to your backside?”

  With every blood molecule in my body racing to my face, I snatched up the boxers and made a run for it, shoving my way through the cackling crowd like my mom jeans were on fire.

  I’d made it to the street by the time Maude caught up to me.

  I could be fast when I wanted to be, but she was apparently faster.

  “Naida!”

  I reluctantly turned, wishing she’d just let me slink miserably away. Her gaze slid to my hand, and I realized I was still holding the boxers. My cheeks burned even hotter. I hadn’t thought that was possible. I reached behind me and opened the door of Alice’s ugly sedan, flinging them inside. “Evidence,” I said stupidly. I had no idea what they were evidence for unless someone wanted to prove the preference for boxers over briefs in the teen population.

  She nodded, her face filled with understanding. “I wanted to thank you for finding my brush for me.”

  I nodded. “No problem. It’s kind of my job.”

  “I want to pay you for your work.”

  I shook my head. “No need. I’m already paid to do this for people.”

  “Oh, who pays you?”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it, having no idea. “Um, I’m not at liberty to say?” That the statement ended in a question was unfortunate. But it just seemed to work anyway.

  Maude gave me a quick hug. “I’m going to find some way to repay you,” she said, and then took off running as the bell rang inside the school.

  I sagged in weariness and relief. “I’m glad that’s over,” I murmured to myself. Then I climbed into the ugly sedan, plucked the boxers off the rearview mirror where they’d landed, and left Enchanted High in my dust.

  20

  Blessed Oblivion, Take Me Away!

  I turned onto Arcane Avenue and headed slowly toward Croakies. The traffic was light at that time of the morning, most shops not opening until ten a.m. or later. I was tired. My bones weary and my eyes heavy, and I wondered if I could sneak in a little nap before I needed to open Croakies.

  The thought made me smile. I was quickly becoming comfortable with the concept of being a store owner. Which was good, because one day, probably much sooner than I’d expected, I was going to own Croakies.

  My stomach did a little flip at the thought. I was going to have my own business. Somehow, that fact had gotten lost amid the worry and challenges of the other side of Croakies. The Keeper of the Artifacts side.

  But I loved books, and I loved the idea and practice of having a bookstore. I was pretty good at it, too. And I was making friends.

  My weariness lifted at the realization that the last few days hadn’t been a total loss. In fact, looking back at them, I realized that I’d felt more alive during the ten days since Agent A.P. had shown up at my grandma’s home and told me that I was destined for a magical vocation, than I had the entire twenty-two years previous.

  The constant, nagging unease that had tightened my belly and made it hard to breathe for the last several days suddenly loosened. I’d just performed my first solo artifact retrieval. Granted, it hadn’t been complex or dangerous…except to my self-esteem…but it had been a real job. And I’d completed it. All. By. Myself.

  I was full-on grinning when I turned my head at the sight of a slender man walking briskly down the street.

  My eyes met his. His expression darkened. And I gave a little shriek as he took off running the opposite way down the street.

  I yanked the steering wheel to the right and headed for the curb, slamming on the brakes as one front wheel hit the curb and slid off with a jarring bump. I turned the car off and jumped out, digging in and racing after the retreating man, who, unfortunately, was a block ahead of me.

  My thoughts spun as I ran. I had no idea what I was going to do if I caught him. But since I’d engaged the chase, my pride and a strong practical streak wouldn’t let me give it up.

  I’d found our killer. And goddess only knew when I’d find him again. My hand slid to the pocket of my jeans and found my phone. Unfortunately, I didn’t dare take my eyes off him long enough to call Alice. I told myself I’d follow him to his destination…run him to ground…and then call for help.

  It was a solid plan.

  But, best-laid plans and all…

  The man stopped in front of an empty storefront and flung out his hands, an oily black mist rising from each palm and spreading into a cloaking wall between us.

  By the time I reached the dissipating magic barrier. There was nothing there except an oily black stain on the sidewalk.

  My breath heaving in and out of my lungs, I glanced around for a possible hidey-hole. The stores were all closed, dark, and silent. There were no vehicles nearby that he could be hiding behind.

  Had he created a vortex like he’d done at Croakies and slipped through it to escape? My admittedly rudimentary knowledge of vortex magic told me he’d have to have a destination in mind.

  I wondered if there were a distance limit on that destination.

  Disappointment rounding my shoulders, I walked the remaining two blocks of Arcane Avenue and found no sign of our killer.

  I turned and started back to the car. Five blocks up, the ugly Croakies sign swung gently on a warm breeze. I had a horrible thought. What if he’d been coming back from Croakies? What if he’d hurt Alice? Or Fenwald?

  I picked up speed, starting to run again as possibility turned to certainty in my overstimulated brain.

  I whipped past a dry cleaner’s, the taco shop where Alice had gotten us dinner, and a travel agent. Alice’s ugly sedan was parked a half-block a
head, its back end sticking too far into the street and its front tires turned at an impossible angle. The driver’s side door was hanging open.

  Oops. Not one of my better parking jobs.

  I was so focused on getting to the car, I nearly missed it. In fact, my eyes skimmed over it and I was several strides past the store before my brain registered the fact that the door to the travel agency was unlatched.

  I skidded to a stop and backtracked, peering through the window with my hands on either side of my eyes to block the bright morning sunshine. The place was dark and appeared empty of people. Movement deep inside caught my eye. I realized I was seeing just a sliver of an open door. And someone was moving around in there.

  Maybe whoever it was had seen or spoken to my mystery wizard.

  I shoved my phone back into my jeans pocket and pulled the door open, sticking my head inside. “Hello?” Silence met my greeting. I stepped inside. “Is anybody here?”

  The office smelled of old coffee, slightly newer flowers, which I saw wilting in a vase on the desk, and something else I couldn’t immediately identify. Something unpleasant.

  I looked around the place, seeing a snack area along the back wall, a plain wooden desk in the center of the room, and a long bank of gray file cabinets against the sidewall. One of those water dispenser things burped softly beside the door, and a brightly-hued travel poster rustled gently in the draft caused by the heating vent in the ceiling above it. Depicting white sand and turquoise waters as far as the eye could see, the poster declared, “Freedom from responsibility” and urged the wistful traveler to “Visit the beautiful beaches of the Caribbean”.

  I thought that sounded like a wonderful idea. Though it seemed unlikely I was going to get that chance any time soon.

  “Hello?” I tried again. “I just wanted to ask you a couple of quick questions.”

  Although I couldn’t see anybody, the air around me felt tightly strung, as if something hung there waiting to ignite.

  My nose twitched under the elusive scent I’d finally identified. Sulfur. Dark magic.

  The door at the back of the store was closed. I was sure it had been open when I’d been peering through the glass. I took a step toward the door, not even sure I’d have the nerve to open it and verbally intrude on whoever was back there.

  As I stood there, dithering, I noticed a black mist oozing across the floor in my direction. My pulse spiked and I stepped backward, keeping an eye on the sulfurous-smelling magic.

  Uh, oh. I’d stumbled on my wizard. I turned around and started quickly toward the door. As I reached for the handle, the deadbolt in the exterior metal door snicked closed with a horrifying finality.

  Beware the implements of travel, for they oft be deadly.

  The thought played itself through my mind and I had a moment of clear understanding. Implements of travel, a.k.a. a travel agency.

  Gulp!

  I grabbed the deadbolt and tried to unlock it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “You really should have minded your own business,” a darkly pleasant voice said from behind me. I whipped around, pressing my back against the door.

  He stood near the desk, though I hadn’t heard him enter the room. He was pleasant enough looking, as well as familiar. I remembered his slicked-back black hair and angular features from Croakies. It was the man who’d created the vortex to retrieve the suitcase.

  My eyes felt like they were in danger of bulging out of my head. “You’re the wizard.”

  He nodded in agreement, though it hadn’t been a question. “I’m afraid so. And you’re a nobody with nose issues.”

  My fingers frantically trying to unlock the deadbolt behind me, I made an effort to look unconcerned. I was pretty sure I failed. “You did murder someone. It’s kind of a big deal.”

  The wizard shrugged, his black eyes sparking with humor. “Those gnomes are becoming a nuisance.”

  “Why’d you kill Gido? Was he trying to shake you down for protection?” I asked.

  The wizard stared at me for a long moment, and I thought he wasn’t going to respond. But then he crossed his arms over his chest and dropped onto the edge of the desk, extending his long legs in front of him as if we were going to have a long chat. “Nah. The little guy knew better than to try that with me. I had some business with his boss.”

  I nodded. “Mr. Gnomish. Unfortunately, I met him.”

  The wizard’s smile eased slowly across his face, making him look almost handsome. “I know. I saw. That didn’t work out so well for you, did it?”

  My lips curled in a sneer before I could stop them. I really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit the mark. Reforming the sneer into a smile, I said, “We came out of it all right.”

  He shrugged, ceding me the point. “Gnomish tried to undercut me on our deal. I don’t like to be double-crossed.”

  “So, you stuffed his guy into the suitcase?”

  The wizard actually looked insulted. “Please, give me credit for more finesse than that.” He laughed. “The little gnish wanted the suitcase. So I gave it to him.”

  My pulse picked up at the thought of what the gnome must have gone through, dying alone and helpless inside that artifact. “That’s a horrible way to die,” I murmured before I could stop myself.

  “Don’t waste your sympathies on Gido, Keeper. He was a miserable creature. Besides, his death was quick. Gnomes heads look hard, but they are actually fragile. It seems that falling the distance of the ceiling to the floor was enough to kill the little guy.” He shrugged. “I’d actually hoped to get him to admit who sent him to shake me down before I killed him. He put a crimp in my plan.”

  “Who sent him? You don’t know?”

  “Oh, I know. I just wanted to get it on tape so I could take it to the cops if the gnome didn’t back down. Gnomish isn’t nearly as smart as he thinks he is. If he wants to undercut me, he needs to be much cleverer than sending one of his thugs in to try to steal the goods.”

  “What kind of deal did you make,” I asked, my hands still working the lock. I needed to find another way out of there because I was quickly losing hope I’d get out through the front door.

  “You’ve experienced the suitcase’s magic?”

  I thought about the trip from Gnomish, Inc. to Croakies and shuddered before I could stop myself. “It’s some kind of portal.” Giving up on the lock, I shoved my hands into my pockets instead.

  “Some kind, yes,” he agreed. “It’s designed to take you to the destination of your choice and back again. The destination is entered at the time of embarking and then disappears immediately after delivery so nobody can follow.” He gave me a mean smile. “If you try really hard, I’m sure even you can see why a criminal enterprise like Gnomish, Inc. might want such a treasure.”

  “The robberies,” I murmured.

  The wizard nodded. “Just a few test runs to show the client the value of the artifact I was offering him. Gnomish was supposed to give me ten million dollars for that suitcase.” His face darkened with anger. “But he tried to bypass that part of our deal.”

  He’d sent Gido to steal the suitcase from the wizard. Bad gnome. Bad, bad gnome. I shook my head. “So, you killed him, stuffed him into the suitcase, and then what?”

  His brows arched in obvious surprise. “You can’t fit the rest of the pieces into the puzzle? I have given you the edges and most of the middle.”

  Despite his reference to jigsaw puzzles, which I have absolutely zero talent for, I felt compelled to play our little tableau out to its climax. “You dropped the artifact where Alice…erm…the Keeper would be sure to discover it.”

  He nodded. “It was a perfect plan. I got rid of the body and kept the suitcase out of Gnomish’s greasy clutches.”

  “Then why did you break into the library and steal it back?”

  The wizard’s lips turned up in a mean smile. “Well, I’d always planned to grab it back anyway. That suitcase is much too valuable to leave to you d
erfs. But then Gnomish made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I had to move up my timetable.”

  I shook my head. “How much?”

  “Twenty million.” He frowned. “Imagine my surprise when we discovered that you busybodies had put a hex on the suitcase so it wouldn’t work. I had my hands full keeping the big guy from going to war with me on that.” The wizard fixed me with a glare that turned my blood to ice.

  “What did you expect when you gave it to a KoA? It was her job to protect it. And to protect innocents from its use.”

  “Aardvark cankles!” the wizard barked angrily. “That artifact is mine. It doesn’t belong to you.”

  Shrugging, I bit my lip against the desire to repeat that he’d given it to us. Instead, I asked, “How did you get Alice to bring it out of the vault? I assume it was you who she was meeting, rather than the PTB like she thought?”

  His lips quirked upward in a mean smile. “It happens our Alice was contemplating embarking on a very long vacation soon. She has a particular affection for the Caribbean. I was very happy to make those travel arrangements for her. I’m a full service travel agent, you know. With, in Alice’s case, a teensy tiny bonus service she wasn’t expecting thrown in. All it took was a bit of a suggestion hex in her tea…”

  Slug snot! Alice had walked right into the monster’s lair and given him a direct line to the artifact. “As much good as it did. You lost it anyway,” I said, my gaze sliding toward the door he’d emerged from, wondering if I could get out that way. Of course, I’d have to get past him first.

  “I’d have gotten it back if it wasn’t for the interference of that stupid sprite. She somehow saw through my doppelganger spell and it was all I could do to get out of there alive.”

  “The glasses,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You weren’t wearing Alice’s glasses. She can’t see anything without them. It was a dead giveaway.”