One Tequila

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One Tequila Page 14

by Tricia O'Malley


  “No, of course not. Though I agree on the clothes,” Beau said smoothly and I nodded.

  “Me three. Too slick,” I agreed and Cash flashed me a smile that caused my insides to tingle and had me reaching for my beer.

  “So who is S&L Investments?” I asked, wiping my mouth with my napkin, watching Cash carefully.

  “S&L? Never heard of them,” he said. A quick scan told me that he wasn't lying.

  “Some online sleuthing seemed to suggest that Renaldo was working with them,” Beau explained.

  “Ah, so that was his investment group. He'd never mentioned who he was with this time. I can ask around,” Cash said and I interrupted.

  “Don't. What if you asking questions where questions don't need to be asked gets you hurt?” I asked anxiously, biting my lower lip again.

  A slow smile slid across Cash's face and I found myself blushing.

  “Worried about me, sweetheart?”

  “I'm just saying…” I protested, grabbing my sandwich and stuffing it in my mouth so as to avoid saying anything to embarrass myself.

  “Don't you think asking all these questions might be putting you and Beau in danger?” Cash countered and I almost choked on my food.

  Beau whacked me on the back, causing me to lurch forward. Glaring at him, I took a demure sip of my beer and smoothed my napkin onto my lap again.

  Cash looked between the two of us and sighed, shaking his head as he rose.

  “I'll look into it. Promise me you two won't do anything stupid.”

  “Of course not,” Beau gushed and Cash shook his head again.

  “Althea. You and I have things to discuss when this is all over,” Cash said, pinning me with his stare. I swallowed, and nodded.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” I said and then blushed, wanting to bury my face in my hands. What made me say these weird things?

  “Please don't make any 'captaining her ship' jokes,” Beau begged as he led Cash to the front door and I groaned.

  A lick at my hand had me looking down into Hank's eager smushface, his whole body wriggling as he looked up at me.

  “You're my one true love, Hank,” I said, reaching down to scratch him.

  “Oh God, soon you'll be collecting cats,” Beau sang out from the other room and I shot him the middle finger, knowing he couldn't see it.

  It made me feel better... for a second, anyways.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After a few unsuccessful hours of searching the Internet, I found myself pacing my private beach with Hank when I heard a voice calling to me.

  I stiffened, unsure of my response.

  Trace.

  When had my life become so complicated? I turned, smiling at him as he walked down to the beach from my yard. A hint of blond scruff at his jaw added to his overall surfer appearance, and his smile seemed to make things better. Even if just for a moment.

  “Hey, I wondered when we would hear from you,” I said, wishing I could see his eyes behind his sunglasses.

  “I was doing some investigating on my own. Plus, I needed some time to chill out,” Trace admitted.

  I looked down at the sand where I was tracing a line with my big toe.

  “I get that,” I said finally.

  “I don't want things to get weird between us. Let's just…I don't know. Let's talk after we get Luna out, okay?” Trace said and I felt relief wash over me even though a flash of sadness came with that relief. It was too hard for me to know my own mind on this stuff right now and I knew what Trace suggested was the mature thing to do.

  “Yes, after all this. We can talk. I heard from Luna,” I said, changing the subject and pushing away the thought of the two serious conversations that I'd be having with the men in my life.

  “What did she say?”

  “She swears Dupree is in on this. Oh, shoot!” I said, remembering her insistence on my learning the breaking spell.

  “What?”

  “She wants me to learn a breaking spell. By heart. Tonight. I wonder what that means for me?” I realized suddenly that her insistence should have served as a warning.

  “Um, duh, you need to watch your back. Luna knows what's what,” Trace said, matching my pace as we walked back to my house.

  “Well, I haven't really been going anywhere. I was considering sitting down and trying to get another vision. Or even walking around the town to read some people's thoughts.” I shrugged, feeling a little foolish. Some private investigator I was.

  “You should probably try to stay out of the town,” Trace suggested, stopping as we reached my house. “Though I do think we should dive in the morning.”

  “You do?” I said, turning to him questioningly. How could he think that going underwater was going to help anything?

  “Yeah, I do. Notice how Dupree never had anyone go back to check out the ocean floor? I can't help but wonder if anything else was thrown overboard along with Renaldo.”

  “That's…an excellent point. I never thought about it.” A shiver raced through me as I thought about going back to the site where we had found his body.

  “It'll be fine. You can't let this ruin your love for diving,” Trace said, reaching out to run his hand down my arm.

  “What are y'all talking about?” Beau called.

  “I think we should go diving in the morning. Check out if anything else was tossed overboard along with Renaldo,” Trace said, moving to plop down on my patio couch. I couldn't help but think that Cash had just filled that spot hours ago. Two men, two wildly different looks and personalities.

  I was doomed.

  “That's not a half-bad idea,” Beau said, coming onto the patio and handing Trace a plate with a sandwich.

  “Okay, I'll do it. But first I need to memorize this spell,” I mumbled, going into the kitchen to where my purse stood. Pulling out the white suede book, I ran my hands over it, feeling the powerful hum that resonated from the book and knowing that Luna had charmed the pages. I wondered if something would happen to me if I tried to open it.

  “No way,” I said out loud, but remembering Luna's instructions about intent, I placed my hand on the book and sent my intention to it that I wished to cause no harm. I pulled at the leather cord, and the flap slid open seamlessly, the soft suede like butter in my hands as I gently opened the book.

  “Breaking spell,” I murmured as I paged through, admiring the dignified handwriting with just the hint of loopiness in the L's. Everything about Luna was classy, including her spell book, I mused.

  “Ah, here we go,” I said, pausing as I read the instructions of the breaking spell.

  To use in breaking bonds, both physical and emotional, that hold you back from your purpose.

  “Well that certainly casts a wide net,” I said again as I scanned the spell. I wondered if she wanted me to break a relationship bond…maybe with Cash? Nibbling at my bottom lip, I scanned the words.

  Undo this bond

  At once set me free

  As I must respond

  For my light is in need

  As I will, so mote it be.

  Seemed pretty straightforward, I thought as I flipped to the next page to see if there was anything weird I had to do like cut a lock of hair or draw a circle. The next page held a new spell, so from my estimation, all I needed to do was intend for the spell to work.

  “How's it going?” Trace asked as he came into the room.

  “Fine, I should be able to remember this. I just wish I knew what I was preparing for.”

  “Beau is going to stay with you tonight. I need to go home and check our tanks very carefully, gas up the boat, look for any foul play-type stuff. Just in case.” Trace shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and I straightened in my seat.

  “Shouldn't someone come with you?” I worried.

  “Chill, Althea. I've got a gun.”

  “You do?” I said, my mouth dropping open. Easygoing Trace did not strike me as someone who carried a gun.

  “I've lived on my own and moved arou
nd a lot. I'm an excellent shot.” Trace smiled briefly before dropping a chaste kiss on my cheek.

  “See you tomorrow, then. Be safe,” I said, pressing my hand to his cheek for a moment.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Trace called over his shoulder, causing me to chuckle, as well as putting me right back in the friend category.

  “Okay then. This will all work out.” I blew out a breath as I focused on the words in front of me, praying I would never have to use them.

  We would just have to see what tomorrow brings, I thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the wharf?” Beau asked, worry creeping into his voice as he paced in front of me, Hank in his arms.

  “It's fine,” I said, packing my dive bag.

  In all reality, I wanted to stop at Miss Elva's without Beau scoffing at me. We had differing opinions of the voodoo priestess and I didn't want to hear it.

  “You will text me when you arrive?”

  “I promise to text you the minute that I step on the boat and am in Trace's capable hands,” I said.

  “Fine, I'll stay here with Hank for a bit and wait to hear from Cash. He said he had uncovered some stuff that could be of use to us.”

  “Lord, I hope so. I'm really nervous about the hearing tomorrow,” I said, pulling the straps of the dive bag over my shoulder. Today I wore a more modest bikini, along with a tank top and shorts with pockets for me to slip my phone into instead of a beach cover-up and my phone in my bag. See? I was being careful.

  “I don't trust Dupree. And I still don't trust Theodore,” Beau said. I had told him about my run-in with Theodore at the shop. We'd come to two conclusions. Either Theodore was madly in love with his wife and furious at me – or he was trying to throw me off the scent.

  “I don't trust either of them. But they both have to know I won't sit around and do nothing while my best friend is locked up. I promise to stay alert.”

  “I'll text you after Cash comes by.”

  I stopped at the door and turned.

  “He's coming by?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Well, what if…” I shrugged, not wanting to say it.

  “Althea Rose, you can't think that man is the killer.”

  “I don't. But…I can't dismiss it. I just need to know for sure,” I admitted.

  “Do you get any reading from him that says differently?”

  “No.” I shrugged helplessly, still nervous to leave.

  “Fine, I'll meet him in town,” Beau sighed.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

  “Your mommy's crazy,” I heard Beau telling Hank as I closed the door.

  Maybe I was, at that.

  The light was still soft this early in the morning, and a slight breeze tickled my face as I biked to Miss Elva's. An iguana skittered out of my path, but aside from that, my ride was peaceful. Though this town had its share of issues, I loved Tequila Key in the mornings, when the soft light didn't reveal the wear and tear on the buildings, and the only sounds were the birds and the ocean.

  Knowing Miss Elva would be up – I swear that woman never sleeps – I pulled my bike to a stop in front of her house and leaned it against the chain-link fence. Debating whether I should knock or go around to the back, I jumped when her voice called to me from a dark corner of the porch.

  “Shoot, Miss Elva, you're going to give me a heart attack if you keep lurking in dark corners,” I said as I walked up the steps to the porch.

  “Maybe you shouldn't be sneaking up on someone's property so you wouldn't be getting so startled,” Miss Elva said, rocking slowly in her weathered wood rocking chair. Today her hair was wrapped in a cloth the color of raspberries with sprinkles of turquoise throughout. Wearing a matching caftan and cradling a shotgun on her lap, Miss Elva was nothing short of terrifying.

  “Um, what's with the shotgun?” I asked nervously. Miss Elva nodded at me to sit and so I took a thin wooden straight-backed chair next to her. The visitor chair said everything you needed to know about Miss Elva.

  You're welcome here, but don't overstay your welcome.

  I shifted in the uncomfortable chair and waited for Miss Elva to speak. She was a woman worth listening to, in my opinion.

  “Evil's in the air,” Miss Elva said simply.

  “Don't I know it,” I muttered.

  “You come here for protection.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Actually, no. I came here because I want to know…” I dropped my voice and looked around to make sure the other porches nearby were clear. “I want to know how to curse Chief Dupree.”

  “Nasty man,” Miss Elva agreed.

  “He's doing something bad. And Luna's taking the fall.”

  “I heard. Poor girl. You'll get her out. I already worked up a few things for you,” Miss Elva said, rocking backwards and then forward again to launch herself into a standing position. I winced, keeping my eyes on the shotgun.

  “You knew I was coming?”

  “Do you really need to ask that?” Miss Elva raised an eyebrow at me, and with her gun, she held the screen door open to her house.

  “Right,” I said, blowing out a breath as I gingerly stepped past the shotgun and into Miss Elva's house.

  I'd been inside once before but not for long enough to appease my curiosity. It certainly put my eccentric little shop to shame, I thought as I scanned the thousands of knick-knacks, bottles, feathers, and various other containers that lined the walls of her house. Yes, thousands.

  It was like an homage to the voodoo arts without there being any discernable organization or theme. A Pottery Barn catalog was topped with a monkey skull on the living room table, and peacock feathers stuck out of what I presumed was an urn.

  “Come, come,” Miss Elva said, ushering me through a narrow hallway to a surprisingly spotless kitchen. A butcher-block table stood in the middle along with four stools. On the table stood several blue glass bottles, a few leather bags, and a mortar and pestle.

  “Sit.” Miss Elva pointed and propped the gun in the corner as I slid myself onto the chair and looked down at the items in front of me.

  “This is curse stuff?”

  “This is your protection. A curse, or in this case probably a hex would be better, is a little more involved. A hex takes more effort and ritual, which also gives you some time to cool off, so you don't go around hexing people every time you get your mad on. And, sometimes, that time allows the universe to right itself without any intervention from you at all,” Miss Elva said as she pulled the mortar towards her and began to dash various ingredients from the bottles into the bowl. She looked down her nose at me to make sure that I understood.

  “Sometimes it's best to let the bad people bury themselves?” I asked.

  “Yes. But I'll work on something. I will make the choice on how to handle this. Not you. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” I said, feeling my shoulders slump like I was being scolded.

  “Now, this?” Miss Elva held up the bowl and I nodded. “This is your protection. Put the bag in your pocket. Do not drop it. Throw it when you need it.”

  “How will I know when I need it?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  “You'll know.”

  “What does it do?” I asked in awe as she poured the freshly-ground ingredients into a small pouch.

  “Shush, girl.” Miss Elva shot me a glare and then focused back on the pouch. I strained to hear what she was mumbling but I couldn't understand her words.

  “There. All done.” Miss Elva nodded and then handed me the small pouch. I took it gingerly, desperately wishing that I knew what it was for.

  “Um, thanks. Do I owe you anything?”

  “Hmpf.” Miss Elva looked highly offended. “Put it in your shorts. Right now, while I am watching you,” she ordered, clearly not having forgiven me for forgetting the gris-gris.

  I slipped from the stool and slid the pouch in
to the back pocket of my shorts, on the other side from my phone.

  “This good? Will I explode if I sit on it?”

  Miss Elva began to heave and I realized that she was laughing – it was like watching an earthquake shake a mountain.

  “It does exactly what you need it to, when you need it to.”

  And that, my friends, was that.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I would be lying if I said I didn't have some trepidation about going diving after stopping at Miss Elva's and being handed a protection something-or-another that was now shoved in my pocket. I'd never been accused of being stupid before, and with two not-so-subtle warnings under my belt now, I was on high alert.

  Stopping at the top of the docks, I locked my bike and scanned the boats, looking for any unusual activity. The usual fleet of fishermen stocked their boats, and Trace's boat rocked gently in the water at the end of the pier. I didn't see him moving around on board, but I assumed he was here as he always made it to the docks before I did.

  Starting down the main dock, I nodded at the regulars in their boats, finding it increasingly difficult to step closer to Trace's boat. My mental radar was sending alarms that something was seriously wrong – I just didn't know what. With every step closer to the boat, my anxiety increased. Was the boat going to explode? I wondered if I shouldn't go any closer. I reached the end of the dock and hesitated about stepping onto the small pier that would allow me to board the boat. My gaze traced the boat, looking for anything off.

  When I saw a hand sticking out from under the bench, palm facing up, I almost screamed.

  “No, no, no, no,” I gasped, rushing to jump onto the boat, not looking around me, only knowing that I had to help Trace.

  “Althea. So nice of you to join us.”

  The voice made my heart drop into my stomach. I didn't want to turn – didn't want it to be the person I knew the voice belonged to.

  I'd been listening to it for almost all of my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Luca,” I gasped, turning to stare at my favorite deli-shop owner, my mind clouded with the pain of knowing that someone who was a fixture in this town – in my life – was actually a killer.

 

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