Cryptic Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  Time out! Don’t let that oversized Crayola say one more word. I can see where this is going, and it’s leading straight to the talking garbage eater.

  “You weren’t just repeating after me, were you, Ted?” I asked cautiously, gripping my coffee cup a bit tighter so that I could brace myself for his answer. “Caroline Abigail Whitley came back through the veil last night, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, Ms. Raven.”

  Oh, this wasn’t good. At all. I could only assume that Caroline Abigail Whitley was attempting to utilize the sapphire’s power to regain her earthly form. If that was the case, then where was she?

  I know exactly where she is, Raven! Don’t you see? This has turned into a rescue mission! Caroline Abigail Whitley is using that poor garbage eater as her way to reenter our realm of existence. We must save him!

  Chapter Ten

  “Please tell Leo that unless Caroline Abigail Whitley had some powerful Druid utilize a specific spell to reincarnate her at the exact moment she came through the veil, then her soul is definitely not inside of a talking raccoon,” Rye said in exasperation, his deep voice coming over the line of my cell phone loud and clear. “Besides, the raccoon in question is—”

  “Oh, shoot,” I muttered, interrupting Rye as I made my way to the window. “Hold on just a sec.”

  The sound of a truck door closing told me that I’d let time slip by and that Liam had arrived for our date on time. Sure enough, he was already walking up the small path to the front door.

  Leo had immediately taken a hit off his meerschaum pipe loaded with catnip the moment Ted had left the house, who was currently armed with a few more simple and straightforward questions for Ivan the Reaper. It would have been a lot easier if I’d been able to speak with Ivan myself, but Ted went on and on about the reaper’s rules and regulations when it came to conversing with members of the mortal realm.

  Trust me, it had been easier to send Ted than to argue the intricacies of the reality that I was also part of the supernatural realm.

  “Rye, I’ve got to go. Liam just pulled up to the cottage for dinner. Please go back to the crypt and see if you can’t locate the ghost or whatever Caroline Abigail Whitley has returned as. Heck, she might just have all the answers we need to set things right. I can’t imagine she wants to remain here now that she understands what awaits her in the afterlife.”

  If you ask me, everything has already been set right. The ring obviously didn’t work for whoever stole it, the moneybag geezer has the book secured inside his own version of Fort Knox disguised as a waterfront property, and the resident warlock seems pretty convinced Caroline Abigail Whitley didn’t inhabit a helpless raccoon’s body. Unfortunately, that means the garbage eater isn’t quite so helpless…and now I’ve got to come up with a plan to waylay him. You realize he’s actually patient zero, right? No one will ever know it was me who saved the world.

  I disconnected the call before Rye could say anything else, having already explained my plan to Leo. He didn’t necessarily agree, which was why he’d gotten into his Honduras stash and was currently stretched out on his back with his miniature legs sticking up in the air as if he’d fallen out of the sky that way.

  “Leo, you’re just upset because I’m about to tell Liam the truth.”

  I wasn’t actually going to tell him the truth truth. I had just decided that it was best to give an accurate account of details regarding my visit with Mr. Whitley, though. The one factor that made all the difference here was that I had possession of the magical ring, and Liam didn’t necessarily need to know that. It was just added reassurance that no human would be able to attempt any kind of ritual that would have them somehow releasing the energy harnessed inside of the sapphire with catastrophic results.

  There are so many holes in your theory, I might have to start referring to this case as Swiss cheese of the brain. Did I mention how I hate the smell of aged Swiss cheese? If I wasn’t so comfortable, I’d be hacking up a hairball right now just at the thought of taking a whiff of the rancid stuff.

  “Leo, we need help from someone who knows all the residents,” I pointed out, having realized that Rye, Heidi, and myself were limited on vital information due to the length of time we’d been in town. Leo wasn’t helping, especially in his condition. As for Ted, I’d sent him out with a list of questions to ask Ivan regarding the restless spirit of Caroline Abigail Whitley. “Liam might not regularly patrol the waterfront properties on the other side of town, but he would definitely have heard some rumblings if such an old myth about the Whitley family seeking eternal youth had any truth to the tales.”

  You make things so darn complicated.

  “Complicated would be if I used witchcraft on top of Rye’s séance gone wrong and a possible flubbed spell cast on a hex bag,” I countered in all seriousness. I’d truly thought that my losing streak had ended, but I wasn’t going to try my hand at another spell until I was positive that the hex bag had no part in this predicament we’d found ourselves in. “Telling Liam everything from a purely holistic point of view can’t hurt anything. Everyone knew that Nan was into holistic medicine, so adding on precious gems shouldn’t be much of a stretch.”

  You might have a point about laying off the more complicated spells until you get a handle on the easier stuff…like conjuring me up a plate of freshly prepared tuna.

  “I already gave you dinner,” I said, walking over to the door before accepting that Leo had been trying to trick me into serving him two dinners. “Not nice, Leo.”

  Liam was going to think that Leo was hacking up a hairball, when in reality he was just laughing. Strange laugh, but at least he wasn’t carrying on about the talking raccoon anymore.

  “Hey there, handsome,” I greeted Liam with a smile. He immediately stepped up onto the large slab of stone that served as my welcoming mat for the cottage before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. “How was your day?”

  “Better now that I’m here with you.” Liam leaned down and claimed my lips, warmth spreading through my body that had nothing to do with the energy harnessed inside that old ring. He finally pulled away only to press his lips against my forehead before taking my hand. I pulled him inside the cottage behind me before I spun to close the door. “I ended up having to run over to Monty’s place. Someone tried to break into his garage, but whoever it was didn’t manage to get in.”

  Whatever you do—don’t ask. We talked about opening up cans of worms, and I don’t like those slimy creatures. Do the right thing, Raven.

  “Really?” I asked, unable to let this slide. What if it was someone looking for the ring? Had the person who robbed the crypt stashed the ring away, only to come back for it later? That was highly unlikely given that they’d tried to search the wrong house. I was now confusing myself with all the possible subplots, and I wasn’t sure if any of my theories held any weight. “Doesn’t Monty live next door to Otis and Karen?”

  There’s not enough catnip in the world to keep me sane during these cases. Do you know how many times we’ve almost died? Now we’re dealing with a family seeking eternal youth, a reaper who plays bad poker, and a mafia-controlled raccoon apocalypse.

  I didn’t walk farther than the living room couch, knowing that we were heading right back out to eat at the pub. We usually went to the diner or one of us cooked for the other, but the pub had recently added a few things to their bar menu that we thought we’d like to check out. I wasn’t hungry in the least, but maybe that would change once I told Liam the truth about the crypt—which I intended to do before leaving the cottage.

  Wake me when the conversation hits a wall.

  “Yes, Monty lives next door to Otis and Karen. It’s a good thing, too, because Karen heard something outside of her kitchen window. She knew Monty wasn’t home, so she called me to check it out.” Liam stopped short when he realized I wasn’t ready to head out to the pub. “Someone did try to jimmy the garage side door, but whoever it was had left by the time I arrived. I
let Monty know so that he could take extra precautions for a while and keep an eye peeled. Raven, why do I get the feeling we’re not going out to eat anytime soon?”

  I smiled before leading Liam around the couch so that we could get more comfortable. I had to be very careful with my words, especially since I was such a horrible liar. This time, though, I was telling the truth—sort of.

  “Liam, I paid a visit to Arthur Whitley after leaving the cemetery this morning.”

  There.

  I’d set the tone, and the rest of this conversation should be relatively easy to carry on.

  Thus is the optimism of youth. You must get the energy from the coffee. Keeping up with you is rather exhausting.

  “I’m listening,” Liam said cautiously, slowly taking a seat on the couch diagonally from my position in the matching overstuffed chair. “I wish you’d have told me beforehand. I could have gone with you.”

  And this is why leaving the good ol’ sheriff in the dark is a good thing. He asks too many questions, and here you are offering up our next case on a silver platter.

  “I thought it only respectful that I explain to Mr. Whitley in person what happened at the cemetery this morning, especially after finding out that your Mr. Meyers doesn’t really talk with that side of the family.” I relaxed a bit when Liam nodded his understanding, although it was clear he didn’t think anything of substance had occurred in the crypt. “Here’s the thing—someone did desecrate Caroline Abigail Whitley’s final resting place. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that she’s not inside that stone coffin.”

  Nothing like shoving the good ol’ sheriff back into the fire. Is he still breathing?

  Sure enough, Liam remained silent. He was taking in everything I was saying with a grain of salt. At least, I hoped that he was. Granted, he was blinking rather slowly.

  Too late to back out now.

  “Let me start from the beginning,” I replied before drawing a large breath and letting everything spill out. “Heidi and I went into the crypt to look for Leo, found the lid of the stone coffin shifted from its original position, and then called you the following morning. I know you didn’t find anything disturbed, but we didn’t just imagine it. And now I have confirmation of what we thought we saw. You see, Mr. Whitley confirmed to me that he and his housekeeper were the ones who put things back in place before we arrived at the cemetery this morning.”

  Liam rubbed the back of his neck as he took in this new turn of events, but I didn’t want him to ask me questions just yet. Leo must have decided that he was too far away to observe Liam’s reaction, so he’d waddled over and jumped up on the coffee table for a front seat view.

  I should have kept some of my Honduras stash for after this train wreck. This is like watching a B-rated movie right before it gets to the good part.

  “I’ll give you the highlights as I know them, okay? Mr. Whitley’s family, dating back to Caroline Abigail, had a sapphire ring in her possession that was said to contain a special energy that had the capability of giving one eternal youth. I’m guessing here, but I don’t think she ever figured out how to harness that energy—not that I think it could ever happen in the first place. I mean, that’s ridiculous, right?”

  Nice way to cover your tracks. Is that a hive on your chest?

  “It appears that Rosalyn Whitley discovered an old book in the family library on the different healing properties of precious gems,” I quickly said, not wanting Liam to interrupt my story before I got to lay everything out on the table. With that said, I did raise my hand to my chest to check and see if Leo was telling me the truth. Liam was bound to know I wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful if I started breaking out in hives. “Inside this book, which Mr. Whitley has in his possession, is an enchantment of sorts. It supposedly explains how to harvest the energy of this particular sapphire, and that it needed to remain buried for three hundred and eighty years to gather enough power for this spell to work.”

  “Raven, I don’t mean to—”

  I leaned forward and rested my hand on Liam’s knee, successfully getting him to pause in his interruption of what would no doubt be excuses as to why this all sounded so crazy. Technically, he’d be right. In the last seven months that I’d been practicing magic, I’d never come across something or someone believing in immortality.

  One of these days, I’ll have to tell you about the story of Ammeline Letty Romilda. Now that crazy myth will have you curling your toes, but I digress. Carry on. This is highly entertaining. The good ol’ sheriff’s reaction to this next part ought to be stellar.

  “Mr. Whitley fully believes that it could happen, and that’s what really matters here,” I stressed, hoping that I could get Liam to see this situation through an elderly male’s perspective. It was the only angle I had that could unify my two worlds right now, because I really needed the additional help in finding out who was after the precious gem. “Mr. Whitley personally rigged the crypt with a security camera, believing that someone would try to steal the ring…which someone did. He didn’t want this belief in this myth to get out to the other residents, so he went to the cemetery before we got there this morning to put everything back the way it was so that no one would be the wiser. Unfortunately, the ring and Caroline Abigail’s remains are still missing.”

  Liam didn’t immediately reply this time around, but instead sat back on the couch with a long sigh. It wasn’t a frustrated sigh, but it was a sigh nonetheless. It looked as if we were probably going to end up skipping dinner at the pub in favor of heading back to the graveyard. There was no doubt that Liam would want to look over the crypt now that he’d heard my story.

  You’ve definitely broken out into hives. Unless it’s poison ivy. I should keep my distance, just in case.

  I didn’t miss Leo wiggling his backside to scoot farther away from me, but his bulging left eye remained fixated on Liam.

  “Let me get this straight,” Liam finally said, surprisingly without any judgement. Then again, he’d never once caused me to feel insecure about anything. “Some myth about a sapphire ring giving an individual immortality was passed down through the Whitley family for several generations, and Arthur Whitley dubbed himself some sort of crypt keeper. Someone eventually stole said sapphire ring, along with the entire remains of Caroline Abigail Whitley, and Arthur doesn’t want anyone to know about the family secret.”

  I have to give the good ol’ sheriff credit. He can sum up one of your crazy stories in two sentences. That takes talent, Raven.

  “That’s the gist of it, yes,” I replied with an assertive nod. I, too, leaned back in the overstuffed chair. It was technically the first time I’d let my muscles relax since last night, and it felt darn good. You know what else felt terrific? Letting Liam in on this current mystery we’d found ourselves involved in. “I mean, except for the fact that Clifford Meyers doesn’t know anything about the broken security camera that Mr. Whitley installed. Unless he did, in which case he might be the prime suspect. Oh, and the fact that Ms. Stella knows all about the book, the enchantment, and the magical ring. You should also know that Mr. Whitley thinks I might be the culprit who robbed the crypt.”

  “Let me guess. Your grandmother was the one who gave the Whitleys the book regarding holistic properties associated with precious gems, and he believes she told you about the chance of eternal youth.”

  He sure is quick on his feet, isn’t he? I’m impressed. I wouldn’t have known that by how he danced at the New Year’s Eve bash the Bends family hosted for the local residents. You’re lucky you have any toes left at all.

  “Close, but no cigar,” I replied with a grin. I mean, it was hard not to smile when Liam was taking all of this in stride. Even Leo would have to agree that this entire conversation had gone better than planned. “Mr. Whitley did call into the shop when Nan was still alive, and she warned him then that someone might try and obtain the sapphire ring sometime this year due to the old wives’ tale about the length of time it took to complete
the charging. Honestly, I’m not sure who gave the Whitleys the book or how long it’s been in the family.”

  We need one of those white boards that the cops use on those crime television shows. How am I supposed to remember all these useless facts? Then there are the unanswered questions. Too much for my catnip-fried brain to grasp, Raven.

  “You realize that in order to prove a crime has been committed that I’m going to have to take a look inside Caroline Abigail Whitley’s stone coffin. That’s going to require approval from a family member, and I’m guessing that Arthur doesn’t want Clifford to know about what’s taken place there.” Liam didn’t see too upset after hearing me out, but I wasn’t so sure that creating an official crime report was the way to go. If that were the case, Mr. Whitley might actually try and convince Liam that I was the one whole stole the ring. “I’m also guessing that you didn’t tell Arthur that you were going to let me in on this little secret of yours.”

  Not to point out the obvious, but the ring is still in your pocket.

  “You know me so well that one would think we’d been dating for longer than five months,” I said, a mixture of happiness and relief coursing through my body that Liam hadn’t gone running for the door. “I’m not sure how to handle this situation, but Mr. Whitley definitely doesn’t want this officially investigated, which was why he didn’t report what happened to you. Hypothetically, a crime technically didn’t occur if you can’t look in the coffin to prove otherwise, right?”

  Liam was a very intelligent man, and he also had very high standards when it came to his work ethic. It was one of the numerous traits I adored about him. That said, I really needed him to help the Whitleys—and yes, me—to find out who desecrated the family crypt without there being an official report.

  Spit it out, Raven. You just don’t want to get arrested.

  That, too. With that being said, there technically hadn’t been a crime committed if no one reported the vandalism and theft. Right?