I call her personal number and she answers on the first ring. “Hey, Ruby. What’s up?”
“Have there been any unusual calls or incidents recently?”
She’s used to our involvement with occasional activities that lean into the magickal and mysterious. Doesn’t mean she’s comfortable with them. “It’s nearly a full moon. Unusual and strange are plentiful. Can you be more specific?”
“Any attacks?”
A pregnant pause. “Human or animal?”
I hesitate. “Animal.”
This pause lasts longer. “Don’t tell me there’s another witchy book on the loose, resulting in possessed creatures.”
“No, no, nothing like that. Poppi heard howling in the woods last night. Not entirely unusual, but he seemed disconcerted. I’m checking to make sure there hasn’t been anything peculiar going on.”
Her sigh of relief comes through loud and clear. “Nothing’s been reported involving wild animals. I do have a bunch of non-locals running around and causing a stir, and Danny Oldestein got drunk and took some frustration out on Mrs. Perlman’s magnolia tree. She’s pretty upset. The tree has deep ax gouges in it. That thing dies, Danny’s going to rue the day he was born.”
She asks about the feast Nonni and Poppi are planning for the holiday before I disconnect. We discuss that for a moment then say our goodbyes.
Matilda is on the sidewalk talking to a friend. Cinder, having overheard parts of the conversation, says, “See, no harm has been done.”
“Still, I should keep an eye on him, don’t you think?”
Her lips twitch. It’s almost a smile. “Of course. At least until you’re sure he has his full memory again.” She arranges red and white peppermint soaps among the candles. “And you have to make sure he understands he’s a wolf.”
A man and woman enter, stopping our discussion. They’re dressed in odd leather outfits with vests that look like leftovers from Halloween costumes.
“We heard you were witches,” the man says when Cinder offers to help them. He’s medium height with a pot belly and a funny mustache. He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans. “We’re part of the Paranormal Investigation Team. You’ve probably seen our show.”
Both of us school our faces and give him a blank look.
The woman steps forward, eyeing the display. “Smells great in here, and these are so pretty.” She lifts a candle and sniffs, her high ponytail swinging forward and brushing a cheek. “We were hoping to talk to you about the coyote attacks that happened in September. We heard you were involved.”
Cinder brushes my hand—a warning not to say anything. “This is Georgia.” She offers a polite smile reserved for nosy tourists. “Animal attacks do happen. No one was hurt.”
The woman sets down the item. “But a man died after being mauled by a bear. We saw reports stating the creatures were possessed. Any chance you can confirm that?”
I scoff. “By what, exactly?”
Her eyes don’t smile when her lips do. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Do you…cast spells? Sell potions?”
Cinder and I exchange a glance. I can almost hear what she’s thinking. How fast can we get rid of these two?
“No.” Cinder crosses her arms and appears bored. “We sell soaps, candles, and candy. Would you like any?”
The man shrugs and takes out his phone, pulling up notes and reading through them. “Someone mentioned a Belle Sherwood knew about the attacks. They said they saw her boyfriend defend himself from four crazed coyotes and a bear.” His gaze rises to glare at us. “Sherwood, that’s you, right?”
Matilda saunters in and seems to know what’s going down. “Leave your card. We’ll call you if we think of anything.”
“Is Belle here?” The woman is undeterred. “Are you her?”
“No,” Cinder and I answer in unison.
The man pockets his cell, the trace of a smile crossing his lips. He knows we’re not being totally truthful, he’s just not sure about what. “We’re shooting a live show on the full moon in the woods. Maybe we’ll encounter some of those possessed creatures.” He offers a wink, but his dark eyes are flat, menacing. “We could use some witchy stuff to add to the setting. You know, smudge sticks, amulets, skulls. That sort of thing. Props.”
“We don’t carry items like that.” I’m glad that’s true, since I can’t stand the sudden thought of having to help him even a minute longer. “Check two towns over at the Chicks With Gifts Emporium. They carry a full line of…props.”
And hopefully one of them hexes you.
The woman slides a business card onto the table. “My name is Jenny. Thanks for your time.” The overhead bell jingles as her partner exits. “Please tell Belle I’d love to interview her and her boyfriend for our show. We can make them famous.”
This time, her smile is real, as if this is enough to lure anyone into talking with her.
Once she exits, Cinder picks up the card in disgust and drops it in the wastebasket.
With Matilda back, I can take a break. I walk out to the back porch and stare at the woods. Another shudder runs through me at the thought of Ren in wolf form encountering those TV show people, or anyone else for that matter. I need to warn Poppi so he doesn’t go after him with his shotgun.
I grab my cloak and discover one of Ren’s hairs on the collar. In the sunlight, I see a mix of red, brown, and black.
The wolf.
I call Belle at the bookstore. “Be on the lookout for those paranormal investigators Poppi warned me about. They came in looking for you, claiming they want to interview you and Leo regarding September.”
“They were already here. I hid and let Daisy handle them. She claimed ignorance and they left.”
“Good. Have you come across any spells in Eunice’s books pertaining to shifters?”
“Not that I recall.” Her voice is perky as she greets a customer before returning to me. “I can check our stash later. Or you could always ask our great-grandmother.”
Communicating with spirits can be tricky. “I’ll try, but she only seems to appear when I least expect it.”
“At least you can see and hear her. That’s an amazing gift, Ruby.”
She’s right, even if it doesn’t feel like it at times.
Placing the hair in a container, I tuck it in my pocket, put on my cape, and walk to the woods. Since I saw Eunice there this morning, maybe I can access that connection again.
Lenore comes with me, happy to have another jaunt. I dally a bit off the path once we get to the spot. The shoe is still there, and I call Eunice’s name several times as I circle the boulder, but only birds reply. A squirrel catches my eye as he scurries past, his cheeks fat with acorns.
As my gaze follows him, my breath catches. Bloody fingerprints mar a white birch trunk.
Upon closer inspection, I find mashed leaves and broken sticks forming a trail. I follow it, my stomach flipping when I notice more drops on the ground.
I anticipate the body before I see it, and my heart sinks to the soles of my feet.
The man is obviously dead, lying at the base of an ash tree, visible gashes and bite marks evident on his face and hands.
Cinder was wrong. Harm has been done.
Chapter Seven
Cinder keeps an arm around me, but even in my cloak and her embrace, my teeth chatter.
Robyn and her team unroll yellow crime scene tape, cordoning off the body. The forest rings with the crackle of police radios and human voices.
She steps underneath a bright yellow strip of tape, lifting it over her head before she stops in front of us. The birds are silent, the poor mouse evicted from his house boot.
“No ID on the vic. I don’t recognize him, do you?”
I shake my head. “Hard to tell, though, with all the dirt and…”
Blood. I can’t say it.
She draws out a small, blue pocket-sized pad from inside her jacket. “There are bite marks and scratches.” Her gaze flicks to me, the
n over to Cinder, back to me. “You called earlier, asking if there’d been any unusual activity or animal attacks. Did you suspect something like this?”
The accusation is there. My legs feel soft and shaky. “Not exactly. I found the shoe this morning, and Poppi mentioned hearing the wolves last night, and, well… Because of what happened before, I thought it prudent to check.”
She flips pages and glances at her notes. “This is far too similar to September. If you suspected anything, you should have called me right away.”
Was the man still alive this morning? Could I have saved him? Is his death my fault?
We all pause a moment, remembering the horrible incidents surrounding the Beastly Book of Spells.
“We haven’t let any of Eunice’s books out of our possession,” Cinder reassures her, her arm tightening around my shoulders. “We had no reason to believe something like this might have happened.”
“Look, I know you guys had nothing to do with it, but it is rather coincidental, don’t you think?”
We hear a clicking noise, but it’s not coming from the investigator shooting crime scene photos.
“Hey.” Robyn marches toward two people a few yards away. Jenny holds an expensive camera with an even more costly lens. “Get out of here. This is the scene of an accident.”
“It’s a free country,” the man replies. He’s wearing leather, like the PIT members earlier, only his vest is covered by a windbreaker. He wears a bandana around his head and biker boots. “Was the guy killed by an animal? Who is he? What species?”
Jenny lowers the camera from her face. “We don’t want any trouble, officer.” She gives Robyn her trademark smile and extends a hand. “I’m Jenny from the Paranormal Investigation Team. We’re doing a live show—”
Robyn cuts her off. “I’m well aware of who you are and why you’re hanging around. Your fans, too. The permit for filming out here was rejected, as I recall, and now there’s a police investigation that you’re meddling in. I strongly suggest you clear out, or I’ll be forced to confiscate your camera and cite you for trespassing.”
Her smile never falters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
I give her credit for perseverance.
“Detective Woods.”
The man starts to argue about their right to be there, but Jenny tugs on his arm. “No problem, Detective Woods. We’re going. We’ve appealed the permit to gather and film here, by the way. Your Chamber of Commerce actually loves the idea of getting media attention for Story Cove.”
Robyn curses under her breath as they leave. When they reach the path, Jenny turns to look at me and makes a “call me” gesture with her hand to her ear.
Once they disappear, Ren comes into view.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask.
“I called him.” Robyn waves him over. “Dr. Woolsey, thank you for coming.”
My pulse skips all over itself when he looks at me and smiles. “Hey.”
“Hey back.” The grin from earlier breaks across my face. “How are you doing?”
“You two know each other?” Robyn asks.
“We met this morning,” Ren answers.
She watches him still smiling at me and raises a brow. I ignore the unspoken questions in her eyes. “Okay, well, the medical examiner is on his way, but I want our new vet’s opinion on the bite marks.”
Ren nods and glances toward the body. “Glad to help.”
Robyn leads him away, careful not to disturb the scene. Unfortunately, evidence may be hard to detect in the forest detritus anyway.
Cinder gives me a jab. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” she murmurs.
“How can I not?”
We huddle together, watching. My breath feels like it’s stuck in my chest.
Ren uses a small magnifying glass and a measuring tape, angling this way and that while signaling Robyn to shine her flashlight on different areas.
After a few tense moments, he leans back on his heels. “The bites could be from a dog.”
Robyn flicks off her light. “Not a coyote or a wolf?”
“Possibly coyote, but doubtful it’s a wolf.”
He points at the dead man’s left shoulder, the coat and shirt torn wide open. “A wolf has considerably more strength in its bite, somewhere in the range of fifteen hundred pounds per square inch. That’s about twice the pressure of a German Shepherd, for example. A coyote’s is consistent with a medium size dog. I’m no coroner, but I don’t believe these killed the man.”
“Why not?” Robyn scribbles on her notepad.
“There’s not enough blood, for one.” He points to the area around the victim. “I know it seems like there’s a lot, but this guy didn’t die from bleeding out either.”
“Any guess as to what did kill him?”
“No, all I can tell you is that the punctures missed major arteries.”
Robyn thanks him, the ME arrives, and she tells Cinder to take me home. “I’ll be in touch later with any news.”
Shaking Ren’s hand again, she holds up the tape for him and the examiner to trade places. “A word of caution, though,” she says to me. “Stay clear of the woods for now, okay?”
I start to protest, but Cinder drags me toward the path. Ren joins in, the two hustling me along. My emotions are a rollercoaster. If he died because of the attack, is Ren somehow responsible?
None of us say a word until we are inside Enchanted.
“It wasn’t me.” Ren stares into my eyes. “I don’t know what happened last night, but I didn’t hurt anyone, and…”
I’m not a wolf. I see the words in his gaze.
“You didn’t recognize the man?” Cinder asks.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I know anybody here, outside of you all, and definitely not him.”
“Any chance you got in touch with your family?”
An odd look crosses his face. “I did like you said and checked my phone and address book. “I don’t have any contacts with the same surname.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He touches my arm. “My memory’s returning and that’s a good thing.”
Torn, I show him out and hang up my cloak. Upstairs in the kitchen, I put the kettle on for tea and Cinder retrieves a handful of candies from the pie cabinet. We share them in silence as the water heats.
“You heard what he said—the bites could be from a dog or a coyote, not a wolf.”
I try to buy her reassurance, but it doesn’t work. “Yes,” I say, “seems he’s in the clear.”
But what if he’s lying?
Chapter Eight
The rest of the afternoon goes by in a rush of customers, and more tea to calm my nerves.
Poppi calls at one point, having heard the news. I end up repeating my story to him, Belle, Zelle, Matilda, Uncle Odin, and Finn Starling, Cinder’s boyfriend. She puts him to work on building storage shelves for our redesigned space.
Nonni refuses to let Poppi walk the trail to come see us, and they show up in Poppi’s truck, bringing two apple pies fresh from the oven.
Leo arrives as well, and we take turns enjoying slices in the kitchen and discussing the disturbing events.
“I don’t like this at all,” he says, running a hand through his golden hair. He’s already eaten two large pieces, trying each pie, and declared Nonni is the best cook in the county.
She blushed and looked pleased.
“What can we do about it?” Belle says to no one in particular. “First of all, Ren stated he didn’t think the victim died from an animal attack, and secondly, if Robyn can’t run those PIT members out of town, who can?”
Zelle finishes chewing and points a fork at her twin. “I vote we hex them. Break their cameras, give them a rash, make them wish they’d never come here.”
Belle chastises her, but if doing so might prevent them from uncovering Ren’s secret or someone else getting hurt, I’m in.
As the others continue to discuss it, I take my
tea downstairs, wondering how to prove Ren is innocent of the man’s death.
Shortly after closing, I’m pouring pumpkin scented goat’s milk soap into silicone forms when Belle’s footsteps sound on the turret stairs.
“Ah-ha!” She hurries into the room, Jayne on her heels. “I found something that might help us figure it out.”
Cinder and Finn are painting trim around the new display window. Cinder sent Poppi and Nonni home after a few hours of their help. Matilda and Zelle are on the showroom floor, finishing with the last customer.
Leo emerges and goes to talk to Finn.
The bell over the door tinkles as the shopper leaves and Zelle strolls into the room, leaving Matilda to close the register for the day. “Figure out what?”
Belle marches to me at the work table, flopping a large, leather-bound volume on the scarred wood. “A spell to tell us whether you know who is you know what.”
Her twin rubs her hands together. “I love a new spell. Let me see it.”
I finish the soaps before the base hardens, casting a glance behind me to make sure no customers are left to overhear. “From the hair I found? Are you sure? We only have one.”
Belle runs a finger down the list of ingredients. “That should do it.”
Zelle reads it over her shoulder. “I’m game.”
Cinder passes us, her paintbrush in hand as she heads for the mop sink to clean it. She gives me a worried glance, sensing trouble. “For what?”
“We need to perform a spell to see if Ruby’s boyfriend is a werewolf,” Zelle responds. “It involves mixing a potion.”
Leo and Finn join us, Finn wiping paint from his fingers. He wanders over to look at the recipe and screws up his face. “Spit from a pregnant toad? Seriously? That’s an actual ingredient?”
He and Leo have seen magick in action, but it can still be a lot to process when you didn’t grow up with it and it’s not part of your everyday world.
“Where are we going to find that?” My hope sinks. “Do toads even get pregnant this time of year?”
Belle taps the book. “Don’t worry. It’s optional. It gives the potion a boost, but we should be able to still make it work with the other items.”
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