Over Hexed (The Hex Series Book 1)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Chapter Twelve

  Maggie repaired her makeup before she walked into Denise’s office, but there wasn’t much she could do about the glasses. She might be able to get away without them for part of the time, but eventually she’d have to read something on the computer screen and the glasses would need to come out. Might as well wear them into the office and hope Denise wouldn’t notice they were exactly like Sean’s.

  No such luck.

  Denise turned from the filing cabinet and caught sight of Maggie. “Those look exactly like Sean’s glasses!”

  “They are his glasses.”

  Denise shoved the filing cabinet drawer closed with a hollow clank. “Really.”

  “Clumsy me, I managed to break mine. His temporary eye problem seems to have gone away, and these are close enough to my prescription, so he loaned them to me.”

  Irritation tightened Denise’s expression. “How handy that he was nearby when you broke yours.” She flipped open the file in her hand and studied it, as if she had no more interest in the matter.

  Maggie didn’t buy Denise’s disinterest. “It was handy.” She chose her words carefully and hoped she wasn’t blushing. “I decided to meet him out at the old house. He knows more about the property than anyone, things like the stress points, the best way to approach taking it down.” She had no clue what she was talking about. Was stress points even the right term to use?

  Denise walked over and sat at her desk. “Makes sense, I guess, although I can’t imagine Sean pointing out the best route for the bulldozer to take.” She sat rigidly in the chair. She obviously wasn’t happy that Maggie had been spending time with Sean.

  Maggie decided to address the problem in case it could cause complications later. She didn’t need any more than the ones she’d already created. “Go ahead and tell me to mind my own business if you want, but did you two, uh, date or anything?”

  Denise’s laugh sounded forced. “Heavens, no. He’s too young for me. We were just friends.”

  “But you’re not friends anymore?”

  “Not really. He didn’t appreciate my efforts on his behalf, so who needs that kind of friend?” Denise tried to sound casual, but there was nothing casual about the hot anger in her dark eyes.

  “I understand.”

  “If you must know, he was more interested in getting into my pants than having me handle his business needs.”

  “Oh. That’s not good.” Now Maggie didn’t know what—or who—to believe. The women in the Bob and Weave had complained because they couldn’t have more sex with Sean, but Denise was saying she’d had to fend him off. Then there was Maggie’s own experience today. She didn’t dare think about those hot moments for fear her expression would give her away.

  “I wasn’t about to become another notch on his nail gun.” Denise pierced Maggie with a look. “And if you’re smart, you won’t, either.”

  Maggie was saved from having to respond by a tall, lanky man coming through the door with a metal briefcase in one hand. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, jeans, running shoes and a faded navy sweatshirt with MIT on the front. His dark hair was short but still managed to look unruly.

  “Hey, Jeremy.” Denise smiled at him. “My savior.”

  The praise seemed to make him uneasy. “No guarantees, Denise.”

  “When it comes to computers, you’re a god and you know it. Jeremy, I’d like you to meet my client, Maggie Grady, from Houston. Maggie, this is Jeremy Dunstan, the smartest man in Big Knob.”

  This time Jeremy blushed. “Hey, cut it out. You’re going to jinx me.”

  “Not possible.” Denise turned to Maggie. “This guy thinks like a computer. If it’s fixable, he’ll fix it.”

  “That’s good.” Maggie couldn’t imagine anything she’d rather have right now than a working computer and an email revealing the contact point for the property’s owner.

  “Nice to meet you, Maggie.” Jeremy shook her hand.

  She might be getting paranoid, but she thought he studied her with more than idle curiosity. “Has Denise told you why I’m here?” she asked.

  “Denise didn’t tell me, but I have heard that you want to put up a SaveALot in Big Knob.” His tone was carefully neutral.

  “That’s right.” Either word was getting around, or Sean had talked to Jeremy. “And I sure hope you can fix Denise’s computer.”

  Jeremy smiled at her. “I’ll do my best.”

  Sean couldn’t believe it. He’d sideswiped Edith Mae Hoogstraten’s Buick. He’d tried to be so careful. Edith Mae had been stopped in the middle of the street, ready to make her turn into the parking area in front of the Hob Knob, and Sean had thought he could go on by her without a problem.

  He hadn’t seen the pothole until the last minute, and then he’d overcorrected. He leaped out of the truck and ran around to make sure Edith Mae was okay.

  She climbed out of her old car and stomped toward him. He couldn’t see her all that well except to notice that the funny little cylinder of a hat she always wore was tipped sideways and she was shaking her fist. She wasn’t very big, barely over five feet, but she still scared the shit out of him.

  “Sean Madigan, you hooligan! You hit my car!”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Edith Mae. I miscalculated.” From the corner of his eye he could see the curiosity seekers arriving. Francine and Sylvia from the Bob and Weave showed up, along with Clem Loudermilk’s wife Clara. Clara wore a purple plastic cape with a towel tucked around her neck. The cape cantilevered out at almost a ninety-degree angle, thanks to Clem’s patented cleavage bra. Clara’s hair was wrapped in tinfoil and she held Bud, the killer Chihuahua, in her arms.

  Heather came out of the hardware store, and Madeline hurried over from the Hob Knob, still clutching her order pad.

  “Is anybody hurt?” Madeline called out.

  “I’m perfectly fine.” Edith Mae marched around to the passenger side of the car where Sean’s truck had scraped it. “It’s my car that’s been violated! Only fifteen hundred and sixty-three miles on it, and not a scratch, until this irresponsible hoodlum ran into me.”

  “I’ll pay to have it fixed.” Sean wished the pothole beside him would open up and swallow him.

  “Bah! It’ll never be the same.” Edith Mae glared at Sean. “And look at you! You’ve let yourself go to wrack and ruin. You used to be such a handsome young man. Now you look like the devil, and you’re driving recklessly and running into innocent people.”

  Heather sidled up next to him. “You do look a little rough around the edges, Sean,” she said. “When was the last time you had a haircut?”

  “Last week,” said Walt, the town’s only barber, who walked out to the street carrying his scissors. “What’ve you been doing, boy, using that Rogaine on yourself?”

  “Just a bad hair day.” Sean tried to toss it off with one of his winning smiles, but he could sense the reaction to him was totally different from what it would have been twenty-four hours ago. Yesterday he would have been able to charm Edith Mae out of being upset. He could have made the rest of the onlookers laugh at the joke. Today they all seemed to be out for blood.

  He was almost glad he couldn’t see very well, especially when he glanced around and noticed, on the fringes of the crowd, Maggie’s red curls. She was blurry, but after what had happened recently between them, he would recognize her anywhere, even blurry. Then again, if he had been able to see, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

  “I called Bob.” Jeremy stepped forward and put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “He was out checking on your skunks, but he’ll be here in a couple of minutes to make out a report for the insurance company.”

  Sean squinted at Jeremy. “What’s he doing with the skunks?” He hoped to hell Bob wasn’t out there trying to poison them. Damn it, why did everything have to happen at once?

  Clara spoke up, her tinfoiled hair making her look like a science experiment gone wrong. “I told him I wanted those skunks G-O-N-E, gone! He said he’d h
andle it. I can’t have those skunks around. They scare Bud.” At the sound of his name, Bud started yapping.

  “See?” Clara stroked the Chihuahua lovingly. “Just mention skunks and Bud gets upset. Clem came down this morning to tell you to get rid of them, but he said you’d made no firm commitment, so I had to act.”

  “He did mention it.” Sean’s patience was being severely tested. “And I plan to do something about the skunks.” If it wasn’t too late.

  “When?” Clara tapped her expensively booted foot. “Next month? Next year? Next century?”

  “I’ll get started tonight.” He’d have to build several traps and prepare a hiding place for them in the woods. Maybe this accident had happened in the nick of time to pull Bob off of skunk detail.

  “If everybody’s okay, I need to get back to the diner,” Madeline said. “Edith Mae, why don’t you come with me and have a nice cup of calming tea? I’m sure Bob will be happy to move your car into your usual spot once he’s finished making out his report.”

  “I don’t need tea at a time like this,” Edith Mae said. “I need gin.”

  “Now, Edith Mae.” Madeline put an arm around the woman’s narrow shoulders. “You know we don’t have hard liquor at the Hob Knob. We leave that to Jeff over at the Big Knobian, and they won’t open for another hour.”

  “Should’ve brought my flask,” Edith Mae said.

  “I understand this is upsetting,” Madeline said. “Maybe I can find you a small glass of cooking sherry.”

  “Can’t abide the stuff,” Edith Mae muttered, but she allowed herself to be led away.

  Francine moved closer to Sean and spoke in an undertone. “If Walt cut your hair a week ago, then maybe he’s losing his touch. Come on over to my shop after this is over and I’ll trim you up.”

  Sean glanced at Francine. “Thanks, but my hair should be okay in a few days.”

  “Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing. Some places are long, some short, and in spots it’s sprouting out of your head like crabgrass. Did you start using a cheaper shampoo?”

  “No, I—”

  “Well, well!” Bob Anglethorpe’s voice boomed out and he strutted over in his khaki police chief’s uniform. “Have a little fender bender, there, Madigan?”

  “Minor problem, Bob.” Sean hoped it was minor. He couldn’t see well enough to determine that. “I hear you were out investigating the family of skunks under my porch.” It wasn’t technically his porch, which was why he couldn’t dictate what went on under it.

  “Yeah, I left some poisoned bait out for them. That should take care of the problem.”

  Sean thought quickly. The skunks wouldn’t come out for at least another two hours. That gave him enough time to go home and gather up the bait, once he’d paid a quick visit to Dorcas and Ambrose. But the sex bench would have to wait.

  “How many packets did you figure it would take?” he asked, pretending he didn’t much care.

  “I set out eight. Now let me take a look at this wreck you managed to have with Edith Mae.” Clipboard in hand, Bob started walking around both vehicles.

  “Looks like things are under control, buddy.” Jeremy slapped Sean on the shoulder. “I’d better get back to work.”

  “Have you fixed it?”

  “Not yet. It’s taking longer than I thought it would.”

  Sean lowered his voice. “On purpose?”

  “No, not on purpose. I told you I wouldn’t do that. There are some electrical issues, too. The power’s cut out twice since I’ve been there.”

  Sean couldn’t tell if Jeremy was really having problems or secretly trying to help him out. “Well, thanks.”

  “I swear I’m not stalling.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “And I have to agree with Edith Mae that you look like hell. What’s the deal?”

  “Jeremy, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Now you’ve made me curious. How about meeting me for a beer later on at the Big Knobian?”

  “Man, I would love to, but I don’t think I have the time.” Skunks to save, sex benches to build, Maggie to distract, not to mention the job to finish over at Calvin Gilmore’s house.

  “Maybe later, then. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  You’re not the only one. Sean bid him goodbye and turned back to Bob, who was ready to ask some questions about how this had happened. Sean only hoped he’d be able to see well enough to sign his name on the report.

  The day had been a series of disasters, but he couldn’t write it off as shitty all the way around. There had been that one shining moment when, thanks to his intervention, Maggie had enjoyed an orgasm. As far as Sean was concerned, that balanced out everything else.

  Maggie was convinced Sean had run into Edith Mae Hoogstraten because his eyesight hadn’t improved the way he’d imagined it had when they were at the house. If he hadn’t loaned her his glasses, this wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t want to feel guilty about that, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He’d looked so miserable and embarrassed standing there in the middle of Fifth Street.

  “I can’t figure out what’s happened to Sean,” Denise said as the three of them walked back to her office and Jeremy returned to the malfunctioning computer.

  “Yeah, it’s weird.” Jeremy had removed the computer’s casing and was fiddling with its insides. “He doesn’t look like himself. It’s almost like his nerdy twin showed up and took his place.”

  Maggie continued to gaze out the plate glass window at Sean, who was still talking to the sheriff. “Does he have a twin?”

  “Nah.” Jeremy continued to tinker with the computer. “He’s an only child, which is too bad, considering that his dad left town when Sean was seven and his mother died when he was eighteen. So far as I know, he doesn’t have any other family. I think that’s why he’s so protective of the skunks.”

  Maggie turned. She’d heard something about skunks while they were all standing in the street, but she hadn’t been able to follow what was going on. “What’s happening with the skunks?”

  “Oh, it’s ridiculous,” Denise said. “Nobody in their right mind harbors skunks under their house. I’m not a big Clara Loudermilk fan, but in this case I think she’s right. They need to go.”

  “Plenty of women in this town wanted the skunks out of there long ago, but Sean insisted they kept him from being mobbed,” Jeremy said. “Nobody would sneak up on him at night for fear they’d get sprayed.”

  Denise pulled out a file drawer with enough force to make it clang. “He couldn’t install an alarm system? If you ask me, he’s too lazy to get rid of them.”

  “No, I think he’s actually attached to them, believe it or not.”

  Maggie’s picture of Sean was changing rapidly. She’d never known a man with sympathy for skunks. Being a city girl, she didn’t know much about skunks, either. Her only experience came from Disney cartoons, where the skunks were cute.

  She glanced out the window again. Sean climbed back in his truck and Bob moved Edith Mae’s Buick. Neither of the vehicles seemed the worse for the collision. In Houston no one would take any notice of such a minor accident, but here it was front page news.

  If everyone got so worked up about a little fender bender, she could just imagine their reaction to a SaveALot being built on the edge of town. It would be the topic of conversation for months. Her decision to locate the store here would have a huge impact on Big Knob and its inhabitants.

  She’d known that intellectually before, but now she understood it on a gut level. The impact on the town would be considerable and could end up being very positive for many people. Just not Sean. As she watched his pickup move carefully down the street, she felt an intense pang of regret. Whether she meant to or not, she was about to smash his dreams to bits.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sean parked in front of the Lowells’ house. Carrying the silver candlesticks, he navigated the wooden steps leading up to the
front porch with great care. All he needed was to trip and fall on his face.

  Then again, nothing could be more embarrassing than sideswiping Edith Mae Hoogstraten. In all the years she’d been weaving down Fifth Street, not one person had run into her. He was the first idiot to accomplish it.

  Dorcas and Ambrose had to do something about his condition. His bad eyesight would keep him from finding the poison set out for the skunks. The Lowells might not care about that, but if he couldn’t see, he couldn’t work, so if they wanted their sex bench, they’d better cough up an antidote.

  The oh-so-classy doorbell chime set his teeth on edge. Everything had seemed wonderful last night, with the great wine and the delicious food. He’d had no idea they were planning to mess with him like this.

  Dorcas answered the door wearing a soft blue sweater and jeans. And she was blurry, of course. “Sean! Come in, come in. We’ve been expecting you. How did your rendezvous go?”

  “Never mind that.” He could hear some fifties music in the background, some singer his mother used to like. “I need you to reverse this thing. I can’t see worth a damn, and I—”

  “But we gave you some glasses.” She took hold of his arm and drew him inside. “What happened to them?”

  “See, that’s what I don’t get. This afternoon my eyesight started getting better.” The music seemed to be coming from the basement, of all places. Maybe they had a rec room down there with a pool table.

  “When did you notice your eyesight improving?”

  “When I found out I could read the label on the wine bottle without them.”

  Dorcas nodded. “I see. And did you enjoy the wine?”

  “Yeah, sure, but that’s not the point. The point is that I need an antidote to whatever you gave me last night. Ambrose said you don’t have the right herbs, but can’t you substitute something else? Something that’s close?”