Witch Slapped: A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries Book 3)

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Witch Slapped: A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries Book 3) Page 4

by Danielle Garrett


  Before I could get too tangled up in my musings, Cassie straightened, her gaze sliding to the front doors. I turned to look over my shoulder. “Speak of the devil,” I said, right as the little gold bell jangled and Chief Lincoln walked into the shop. Nick, a PI friend of ours, was following close behind, dressed in a pair of black slacks and his dark grey duster. He must have just finished working.

  “Hey, honey,” Cassie beamed, smiling from ear to ear at the chief. “I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight.”

  Chief Lincoln lit up brighter than the Christmas tree in the bay window at the front of the store. “The guys kicked me out early tonight.”

  Cassie’s lips twitched. “Were you hovering?”

  “Apparently,” Chief Lincoln replied with a shrug. “In any case, I figured I’d come see if I could sweet talk you into taking off early, too. I bought a movie and a frozen lasagna.”

  “Who says romance is dead?” I quipped, glancing at Nick.

  He suppressed a smile and leaned against the counter. “Hey—I’m just here for a caffeine fix.”

  I grabbed a paper cup from the stack by the cash register. “On it.”

  “Thanks, Holly.”

  Cassie looked up at the clock above my head. “Would you mind closing up on your own tonight, Holly?”

  I took a dramatic glance around the shop, surveying it as though I’d just discovered the Wild West. I could almost see the tumbleweeds rolling. “Gee, Cass, I don’t know. It’s a little hectic.”

  She smacked me lightly on the arm as I started making Nick’s drink. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She tugged her apron off and placed it on its proper peg behind the counter, swapping it for her purse and thick winter jacket, which was a vibrant shade of royal purple.

  Nick started humming the theme to Barney, earning him a fierce glare from both Cassie and Chief Lincoln. I drowned out my own giggle with a blast from the steam wand on the espresso machine.

  “See you tomorrow, Holly?” Cassie asked, craning around as Chief Lincoln ushered her to the front door.

  “Yup! Have a good night, you crazy kids.”

  This time I got a scowl from Chief Lincoln, who was at least five years older than me.

  Nick laughed as the door swung shut behind them. “I still haven’t figured out the key to unlocking Chief’s sense of humor. I’m pretty sure it’s in there somewhere.”

  “Must be buried pretty deep,” I replied as I passed Nick his mocha and then propped my elbows on the glass pastry case. “What are you up to tonight?”

  Nick shrugged and took a sip. “It’s pretty miserable out there,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to look out the large windows that lined the front of the coffee shop. Nick and I weren’t exactly the talk-about-the-weather kind of people, but on a day as gloomy as this one had been, everyone wanted to moan about it. “Chief and Cassie probably have the right idea—warm up some dinner and stay inside with a good movie.”

  I nodded. “Boots always gets clingy on nights like this, so I’ll probably spend it with a tabby attached to my foot while he begs to lick the whipped cream off my hot cocoa. At least he keeps me warm and cozy.”

  Nick grinned at me. “Is this your subtle way of telling me to get a cat?”

  “No.” I laughed. “If anything, you need to get a girlfriend.”

  Nick’s smile slid right off his face and, judging by the rapid way he blinked his eyes, I’d caught him completely off guard. The bemused look on his face only made me laugh harder.

  “Oh, relax! It was just a suggestion …”

  He clasped his hands together in front of him and mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch.

  “What was that?” I asked, still grinning.

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “Nothing. You should just worry about your big meet-the-parents night before you start issuing relationship advice.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “How do you know about that?”

  Nick shrugged. “I overheard Evangeline and your other roommate, Lacey, right?” I nodded and he continued, “They were talking about it the other night when I popped in next door,” he explained, nodding his head in the direction of the Emerald, which was Siren’s Song’s only neighbor in the small, circular strip of shops.

  “Good to know my love life is such a hot topic,” I said with a sigh. “Apparently my roomies are no better than Mrs. Grady and Mrs. Brooks down at the Lucky Lady Salon.”

  Nick gave me a blank stare.

  “Nevermind,” I arched an eyebrow at him. “What were you doing at The Emerald, anyway?”

  His cheeks pinked. “Evangeline’s got me hooked on some fancy cream,” he grumbled under his breath.

  I pressed my lips together to stop another giggle from escaping. The idea of Nick’s fancy condo bathroom lined with little pink and green bottles of skin cream painted quite the mental picture.

  He frowned at me. “Laugh all you want, the stuff really helps!”

  “Whatever you say, Nick,” I said, losing the battle to keep myself from laughing.

  He glanced around the empty shop, as though looking for some extra masculine task, like chopping wood, or ripping a phone book apart with his bare hands, just to prove his masculinity. Before he could find something, a sing-song chirp sounded from inside his jacket. He fished out his phone and grimaced.

  The sound tapered off and he frowned. Seconds later, it rang again and he cursed under his breath.

  “Who is it?” I asked as he continued to glare at the phone as though it had personally offended him.

  “Georgia Banks.”

  “Who?”

  He held up a finger and took the call. I blinked at the quick change in his demeanor as he plastered on a fake smile, obviously hoping it would transfer to his voice. “Mrs. Banks, how are you?”

  Nick paced away from the counter and although I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, I could tell from the slump of Nick’s shoulders that it wasn’t going well. Who was this mystery woman that had him so unglued? The name didn’t ring any bells and in a small town like Beechwood Harbor, I knew most of the families in the area.

  “I understand. Mmhmm.” Nick pivoted on his heel and paced back toward the counter. His expression was tight but he still wore the fake smile. The combination made him look slightly deranged. “Yes. I’m on it. I’ll call as soon as I know something.”

  He ended the call and shoved the phone back into the inner pocket of his jacket, muttering to himself.

  “What was that little … performance?” I asked, gesturing toward his pocket.

  His eyes snapped to me. “What performance?”

  I crossed my arms. “You went from ‘pissed off’ to ‘housewife on happy pills’ in three seconds flat as soon as you answered your phone. Who is Georgia Banks?”

  He groaned and dragged a hand through his short, wavy locks. “My new client. She’s from Surfside, lives like her swimming pool is filled with gold coins, and thinks the world revolves around her.”

  “She has a swimming pool?”

  Nick nodded, still scowling.

  I tapped my finger against my lips. “I wonder if it actually is filled with gold coins.”

  “Holly,” Nick said, frowning at me.

  “Right, sorry, sorry. Go on.”

  “She thinks her husband is working on finding his next wife and wants me to get proof so she can blow up their airtight pre-nup before things go sideways.”

  I grimaced. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah. Not so much.” He slumped into the nearest chair and stared miserably at his coffee cup. “I might need you to top me off with another double shot before I go. She just said her husband left the house, and according to the tracker app she’s installed on his phone, he’s at some out-of-town motel.”

  “And she wants you to go into spy mode,” I finished, drawing the obvious conclusion.

  “That’s what pays the bills.”

  Without another word, I turne
d to the espresso machine and started pulling another set of shots.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  After topping off Nick’s mocha with a couple extra shots of rich espresso, I started breaking down the machine and getting ready to close up for the night. I prepared a bucket of cleanser that sat in the sink and was halfway through attacking the portafilter baskets with an old toothbrush when I realized that Nick was still hovering at the counter. I raised a brow and asked, “Everything okay?”

  “I’m waiting for you,” he answered before taking another long sip of his drink.

  I straightened. “For what?”

  “Holly, come on, it’s freezing outside. I’m not going to leave and have you walk home. You’d turn into a human Popsicle halfway there.”

  I smiled at the look of genuine concern on his face. “That’s sweet. But I’m fine. I do it all the time. It’s not that far.”

  He frowned. “I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s dark and there’s already a layer of ice on the sidewalks.”

  I glanced past his shoulder, out the front window. It wasn’t raining, but the air outside would be bitterly cold. Nights like this had a way of biting through to my skin, regardless of how many layers of clothing I wore. A ride home to the manor in Nick’s luxury car didn’t sound like a bad idea.

  “Well I’m gonna be here for another fifteen minutes. Can you wait that long?”

  “Sure.” He leaned back in his chair. “Trust me. If Georgia’s right about Mr. Bank’s whereabouts, then he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  I cringed. “Right.”

  “Need me to do anything?” He asked, casting a glance around the empty shop. He’d helped me close on a few occasions. I normally put him to work emptying trash cans, but out of boredom during the long afternoon shift, Cassie and I had already taken care of all of the little things.

  “I don’t think so. I’m going to finish cleaning the machine and then count up the till. Then we can go. But really, Nick, if you need to go—”

  Nick flashed a grin. “Holly, come one, you know I’m just as stubborn as you are.”

  I laughed and went back to work. Nick and I always seemed to be in a battle of wills and I knew first hand that he wasn’t kidding.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were bundled into the front seat of Nick’s sedan with the heaters on full blast. As Nick pulled out of the Old Town Harbor Shoppes’ lot, he glanced over at me. “So, you and Adam got a big movie night planned like Cassie and the chief?”

  I shook my head. “Just me and the aforementioned clingy cat tonight. Adam’s out of town for a few days.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s in Seattle for some work emergency.”

  “Hmm. Hopefully nothing too serious.” Nick turned onto the main road that led up the hill to the manor. He was taking it slow, babying his expensive car, though from the glistening patches on the road ahead, it was a good decision. He glanced over at me. “So, back at Siren’s Song, that crack about the girlfriend—”

  “Nick,” I said with a laugh. “I was just messing with you. Bats … so touchy.”

  He chuckled but it felt forced. “Right.”

  “Why?” I twisted in my seat to face him. “You have your eye on someone? I could work a little magic.”

  Boy, could I! I still had a little of the Fated Flirt potion that I’d whipped up this past summer when I’d been debating dosing him and Cassie. Cassie was with the chief now, but surely there were other eligible candidates in Beechwood Harbor.

  “No one specific,” Nick replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m a little too busy with work right now anyway. I doubt I’d find someone willing to drop all plans to go on a night time stakeout. Trying to catch someone cheating on their spouse isn’t exactly the right backdrop for a romantic night.”

  “True …” I studied Nick’s profile and wondered what was going on inside his head. We’d known each other for several months and he rarely missed his daily trip to the coffee shop, so we saw one another often. On top of that, I’d found that the experience of solving two murder investigations together had a natural bonding quality. However, somehow Nick managed to hold onto an aura of mystery.

  I knew the basics, like where he was from, his favorite foods, and that he loved ghost stories and old houses. I even knew about his last girlfriend and the tumultuous ending to that relationship. But I was still foggy on the bigger questions. I had no idea what he really wanted from life. He had a thriving PI business, but was that enough to make him happy? Did he want a wife and kids and a big house up in the hills overlooking the ocean? Or was he content with his shiny condo and the freedom to pick up and move on at a moment’s notice?

  He caught me staring and arched an eyebrow. “You okay, Holls?”

  His voice jolted me back to the present and as my eyes locked with his over the center console, I realized that all of the questions I had about Nick were the same ones I kept asking myself. What did I want? I had my potions business—well, at least until Harvey caught wind and shut me down—and I had Adam. But was that enough? It sure didn’t feel like it. There was something hungry and unsatisfied deep inside of me and I hadn’t yet figured out what would satiate that beast. Somehow, I had the feeling Nick would understand exactly what I meant if I were to try to explain it.

  But I didn’t try.

  Instead, I flashed an easy smile and asked, “I was just wondering if you’d want some company tonight.”

  ****

  If my offer surprised Nick, he didn’t let on. We stopped at the manor long enough for me to feed Boots and whip up a couple of sandwiches using the leftover spaghetti—spaghetti sandwiches were one of Adam’s more off-the-wall creations, but darned if they weren’t delicious—that I had stashed in the fridge. I grabbed a thicker sweater, a couple of Lemon Clouds, patted Boots on the head, and hurried out again before anyone knew I was home.

  We drove to the hotel that Mr. Banks was supposedly staying at for the night and Nick swung his sedan into a parking space with a view of the front entrance. The hotel was part of a national chain and was probably frequented by business people who needed a clean, quiet place to sleep for a night or two. Functional but short on charm. In a word, it was beige. It was hardly the type of place I’d imagine a torrid affair taking place.

  “You sure this is it?” I asked, leaning forward to gaze out Nick’s window.

  Cassie and Chief’s frozen lasagna dinner was more romantic than this place.

  “That’s what Georgia said.” Nick fished his phone from the center console and double-checked the GPS. The robotic voice had spouted directions as he’d driven so it was hard to imagine we had the wrong place. But still …“Yeah. This is it. Stay here, I’m going to go scan the rest of the lot and see if I can spot his car.”

  I grabbed my messenger-style bag from the floor and started digging around for one of the Lemon Clouds, the magical—and much more delicious—version of a power bar. “Okay. Have fun,” I replied as I ripped open a wrapper.

  Nick flipped through the phone and spun it around to face me as I stuffed a bite of the decadent pastry into my mouth. “That’s our guy. If you see him and he’s with someone, try to snap a picture. The camera’s right here,” he said, popping open the center console. He pulled out a shiny, black camera and handed it to me. “It’s pretty simple to work. Point and shoot.”

  I gave him a mock salute and replied around a mouthful of lemon goodness, “Got it. Point and shoot.”

  Nick got out of the car and closed the door softly behind him, sealing me in silence. I leaned over and studied the photo still glowing on Nick’s phone. Mr. Paul Banks was a normal enough looking man. He was older but appeared to be in good shape based on the cut of his suit. He had salt and pepper hair and a clean-shaven face. I used my thumb to flip to the next picture on the roll and found the same man staring at me, this time with his arm wrapped around a busty blonde wearing an incredibly low cut, cobalt blue evening gown.

  “You must be Geo
rgia,” I said to the picture. I cocked my head, wondering how on earth she’d managed to keep her dress up. It defied gravity. As I studied their happy faces, I couldn’t help but wonder how long ago the photo had been taken. How had they gone from the smiling people in the picture to the state they were in now? Whether Mr. Banks was really cheating or not, it sounded like their happily-ever-after had already come crashing down.

  The dark thoughts weren’t doing anything to help my already-melancholy mood. I started to swipe to the next picture when I noticed a detail that I’d overlooked at first because I was distracted by the sheer amount of skin on display—around Georgia’s neck hung a gold medallion. Using my finger and thumb, I zoomed into the picture and studied the face of the round piece of jewelry.

  Etched into the gold was a symbol I’d seen many times, but never outside of a haven. The Thraxis was a mythical three-winged bird, depicted wearing a stately crown, and was a symbol adopted by the Molder House—a very old and powerful family of vampires. What was Georgia doing with a necklace like that? My pulse quickened as a flurry of questions started bouncing around my in head like popping corn: Was she a vampire? Was Paul? If so, did either of the other know? Or maybe they were both vampires …

  Whatever the case, the Thraxis’ sudden appearance made whatever was going on feel a lot more dangerous. Warring vampire situations—even in the case of a husband and wife—could turn volatile in a hurry, as most vamps were severely lacking in the impulse control department. I made a mental note to ask Nick if he’d ever met Georgia outside, in broad daylight.

  True to classic folklore, vampires couldn’t go out into the sun. And no, it wasn’t for fear of sparkling. Most of them, within a few minutes of exposure, would develop a severe skin rash that was like an intense sunburn. On cloudy days, with the right amount of protective clothing, they could go out and about during daylight hours, but most of them preferred to stick with the whole creatures of the night thing.

  My heart sputtered into a frantic beat as I scanned the dark parking lot. If Paul was a vampire, he wouldn’t take too kindly to Nick stalking him and would have the advantage of being able to pick up on Nick’s presence long before Nick realized he was being watched. And if he felt threatened …

 

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